tumblrdotcom
by jamesgatz1925
Summary: Sherlock has a popular blog on Tumblr. John also has a popular blog on Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1: Crush

_**A/N: Hello all! Here's my newest story about Sherlock and John and Tumblr. They're teenagers, and...well, you'll see. **_

_**One warning for the entire story is that John has mental health issues and it talks about suicidal thoughts. Nothing graphic, but it mentions that John is depressed. And there is cyber bullying.**_

**Rating: Some can go up to M. There will be warnings before each chapter.**

**Category: M/M**

**Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Harry Watson/Clara**

**Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Harry Watson, Clara, mentions of each of their parents**

**Tags: Teenagers, Tumblr, mental health issues, some sex occurs, cyber bullying**

* * *

><p>15 New Messages.<p>

_anonymous: Shut up about your stupid problems and blog about cats like a normal person. _

Delete.

_anonymous: God you're so ducking annoying _

Laugh.

Delete.

_anonymous: I hope you have a good day, you really deserve it :) _

_reply: Aww, thanks anon! :)_

_anonymous: Jump off a fucking cliff already. _

Pause.

Contemplate.

Delete anyway.

There's a knock on the door and John quickly shuts his laptop. Last time Harry caught him on Tumblr, she laughed at him for an hour. "You're one of those boys?" she had asked between laughs.

So now he hides it from his twin, even though she goes on and on about her blog daily.

"Yeah?" he calls to the door.

Harry opens the door and looks at him suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he says. "Just about to start some homework."

"Oh, great, I was wondering if you wanted to work together on that maths packet?"

"Sure, yeah."

"Great, I'll go grab mine."

Harry disappears from John's doorway and he quickly opens up his laptop to exit out of Tumblr and clear the internet history. He doubts she'll even open his laptop, but he can't be too careful.

Another reason John does not want his sister to find his Tumblr is that it's anonymous. Never has he given his name or location, all anyone knows is that he's high school aged and that he's a boy (only because someone asked). John uses his Tumblr to not only blog away about his obsessions (mostly in fandoms a like Harry Potter and Doctor Who), but he also blogs about his life, things he can't tell anyone, not even his sister.

His first ever post was, "I'm gay and nobody knows."

Then it turned into discussing his depression, his suicidal thoughts, and trying to overcome it all.

Which is why he receives so many anonymous hate messages, telling him he's a whiny baby and needs to get over it. For every loving message he gets about his courage to survive, he gets someone telling him he's a waste. And he doesn't want his sister to know any of that.

Harry sprawls across his bed, leaving John little room (like usual).

"Did you see Robin today?" Harry asks as they work. "Wasn't she so cute? She's always so cute."

"Yeah," John honestly agrees; Robin is one of the most beautiful girls at their school. "She's cute."

"You could totally date her."

John snorts. "Why do you always try to set me up?"

"Because you're lonely. A girlfriend would do you good."

"A girlfriend would do _you_ good," John jokingly retorts.

Harry pauses for a second, then starts to laugh. "As if," she says.

"I was joking," John clarifies, hitting his sister with a pillow.

Harry tosses the pillow back at him.

They work in silence, until Harry interrupts again. "You know who looked fine as hell today?"

"Who?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

John blushes. He'd noticed, of course he did. He notices every single day what Sherlock looks like; he memorized every perfectly shaped strand of curly black hair, every elegant angle of his lengthy body, every shade his tortuously beautiful eyes change to during the day. He notices everything.

John clears his throat. "You should try going out with him." Honestly if his sister really wanted to date the biggest crush of his life, he'd support her. But selfishly he knows that if Harry dated Sherlock, Sherlock would come to their house and he'd have an excuse to look at the boy without fearing being caught by schoolmates.

Harry lets out a laugh. "As if," she says again. "He's so far out of my league. And besides, I hear he'd be more interested in you. If you know what I mean."

"You mean he...he's gay?"

Harry looks at him. "No, he's into short, blond, Doctor Who freaks."

John glares at her.

"Yes he's gay," Harry says. "That's what I heard, at least. He does take ballet."

Of course John realizes that means nothing. Harry wears his t-shirts, that doesn't make her a boy.

"We're the same height, by the way," John mutters.

"I'm an inch taller than you."

"Uh huh."

* * *

><p>Sherlock sits and rests his laptop over his legs. "Let's see what's happening in the world today."<p>

Clara, his best friend, sits beside him and looks over his shoulder. "Looks like war, a new episode of Doctor Who, and sports. Why do you even follow these people?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Because there aren't any quality science blogs."

Clara laughs. "What's the follower count up to today?"

Sherlock opens a new page so he can see his follower count at the top of his dash without losing his spot further down on the first page.

"Looks like twelve thousand, five hundred and eight two."

"Wow," Clara says. "You should promote me again. Last time you said I'm your best friend I gained, like, three hundred followers overnight."

"Have a quality blog and I will."

Clara punches him in the arm.

"Ugh," Sherlock grumbles. "More insufficient depressed rumblings from mister johawa himself."

Clara laughs. "Why do you even follow him if you hate him so much?"

"I don't follow him. His shit circulates on my dash."

The current post Sherlock is reading over and over is user johawa wishing he could tell the world how he really feels. Sherlock rolls his eyes. Then clicks reblog.

He types and Clara reads over his shoulder.

"Sherlock!" she cries. "You can't tell him to come out and get the fuck over it!"

"Why not?" he asks, clicking post.

Clara shakes her head. "You're so mean. I don't know how you don't lose followers after talking so much shit to poor johawa."

Sherlock just grins wickedly.

He continues scrolling while Clara goes on and on about a girl in her writing class. Sherlock doesn't listen, he hardly ever does, because what gets his attention a second later is a reply from johawa.

_johawa reblogged your post and added: _

_It's really hard for some people, okay scientificpirouette? Some people fear rejection and hatred and judgment. Some people don't live in the sunshine filled world like you so clearly do. So if you'd be a man and send hate to my inbox, I'd gladly give you a little insight on what I deal with daily. But if you're afraid to come to me personally then kindly fuck off._

"Ugh, I hate him!"

Clara pauses. "Who?"

"Stupid johawa!"

Clara grins, her teeth bright against her dark skin. "Honestly, I think you've got a little crush on him."

"On _him_?! The boy is a loser who uses the internet to hide behind the shame of who he is. Honestly, I'm disgusted by him."

"And yet you talk about him an awfully lot, you're scrolling his blog right now-"

Sherlock quickly exits out of the anonymous boy's blog.

"-and you constantly push him to come out. It's hard for him, Sherlock."

"Why is it hard for him?!"

"Because he probably didn't come out of the womb covered in body glitter and doing jazz hands!"

Sherlock frowns. "I had to wear body glitter for a performance _one time_."

Clara laughs. "God, just forget about him, alright?"

Sherlock sighs. "Alright."

"Thank you," Clara says. "Now, on to important business. I think we should peruse the Watson twins."

Sherlock chokes on his own spit. "What?!"

"I think we should double date the Watson twins."

Sherlock shakes his head. "No way."

Clara whines. "Why not?"

"Because Harry Watson scares me, and if you haven't noticed, she's not exactly my type."

Clara bites her lip. "I wasn't suggesting _you_ date _her_."

Sherlock slowly looks at her. "What?"

"I just figured, y'know, you take John."

"Take John where?"

"On a date, genius."

"But...John's not gay."

Clara snorts. "Right."

"I'm serious," Sherlock mutters. "...Is he?"

Clara lifts an eyebrow. "The boy ain't straight. He might not know, but-"

"That doesn't mean he'd want to go out with _me_. John does sports and likes Doctor Who and all that junk."

"So you put on your tightest pair of jeans and don't tell him you like blowing shit up and dissecting animals. He won't think you're a psychopath and he'll get to look at your arse in jeans."

Sherlock laughs. "What makes you think I'd want to go out with John Watson anyway?"

"By the way you drool when you see him, the way you make heart eyes at him any chance you get."

Sherlock blushes at the thought of being caught doing that. She is right.

"And besides, it'll take your mind off of anonymous internet boy."

"I don't like him!"

Clara lifts an eyebrow.

"I don't!"

"Uh huh."


	2. Chapter 2: JW, the biggest mystery

_**A/N: I chose a last name for Clara because I don't think she had one. Thanks for reading, please review!**_

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><p>John absolutely never listens to his sister if he can help it. This comes from the painful memory of being seven-years-old and letting his then wiser-than-all sister convince him he could fly. Which, of course, he couldn't do, and ended up with his first ever broken bone. Though the bone heeled and he's really fine now, nine years later the memory still serves as a warning to not take his sister's advice when she decides she knows everything.<p>

Which is why John stays the hell away from Sherlock Holmes.

His sister's intuition is never right, either. If she thinks Sherlock is gay, the boy probably isn't. Sherlock wouldn't even ever talk to him; Sherlock's as gorgeous and smart and talented as they come. Teachers have always talked about how someone so skilled at science shouldn't be as skilled in music and dance, but Sherlock always likes to be the anomaly and has to show off his ability to do both things incredibly well. John is always so impressed with everything Sherlock does; Sherlock could probably chew his food in a different way than usual and John would be in awe of his talent.

John is not anyone Sherlock would ever want to be with. John is untalented, of average intelligence, and not anything prize worthy to look at. Unfortunately, his sister got all the looks from their parents and all he got was the joint amount of psychological problems their parents have.

So John pushes Harry's talk out of his head. It's not like Harry was telling him to go for Sherlock anyway. John believes Harry would even think he's not good enough for Sherlock Holmes.

Of course John talks about it on his blog.

"_I like a guy who doesn't know I exist and he's gorgeous and smart and he'd never ever like me back._"

To which he gets many responses.

_"You have to put yourself out there! You won't know how he feels about you unless you try!"_

Or the more popular:

_"He probably wouldn't care for you after he finds out how much of a whiney bitch you are._"

That just pushes John further away from the idea of maybe one day potentially actually speaking to Sherlock.

* * *

><p>Sherlock carefully watches out of the corner of his eye. He does this every math class; he takes special care to both pay attention in class to not be caught off guard if he's called upon, and he watches the small blond boy out of the corner of his eye.<p>

And god, he's cute today. He's wearing a plain black shirt and regular jeans, nothing out of the ordinary, but the _black_. His _arms _in that shirt makes Sherlock want to insert himself on the smaller boy's lap and make his presence known.

Sherlock bites his lip to relieve himself of the daydream. He uncomfortably squirms in his seat and tries to focus on the lesson.

But his thoughts are quickly derailed when the girl between him and the most beautiful boy he's ever seen turns to the other boy and starts openly flirting with him in the middle of class.

How, out of everyone in the entire world, is Sherlock the only person John Watson doesn't notice? Sherlock gets unwanted stares, inappropriate touches, and disgusting propositions every day from both the males and females at their school, but not so much as one 'hello' from John Watson.

And goodness, Sherlock longs for it. He's had intense crushes every year since he started school (he proposed marriage to his male teacher when he was six), but this is different. This is the kind of stuff teen novels are written about. This is the kind of stuff that Sherlock wants to both abandon and explore. This is the kind of stuff that makes his blood boil when that girl touches John's arm.

Sherlock takes a deep breath to compose himself and quickly jots a note down in his book to make it look like he's paying attention. His attention, however, is actually on the look on John's face while he talks to the girl_. Is he straight?_ Sherlock asks himself. Sherlock tries his best to study him more, but the results are inconclusive. He should've asked Clara what made her say John is gay.

Clara is usually right, though. Clara is better at reading people in this way, whereas Sherlock assumes every male is gay (because honestly, when the 'straight' head of the football team looks at your arse more than once, it's no accident).

Sherlock needs to know what made Clara say that. He decides to send her a text.

**To Clara Wright: Why do you think John's gay?**

Her reply is almost immediate; Sherlock knows she's in art class.

**From Clara Wright: He made out with one of the guys on the football team.**

**To Clara Wright: HE DID?! **

Sherlock feels himself blush in annoyance, thinking that if someone else has kissed John, it is pretty much unbearable.

**From Clara Wright: LOL No, I'm kidding. He doesn't look at the girls the same way he looks at the boys. Watch him.**

**To Clara Wright: You think I don't watch him?**

**From Clara Wright: You are creepy as hell, friend.**

Sherlock huffs and shoves his phone back into his pocket. He feels it vibrate a second later, but he ignores it. Instead, he openly watches John, watches his actions, the look on his face.

John's watching the girl with intent, listening to every word she says as if it's very fascinating. He wishes John would look at him like that, he wishes John would look at him at all, but Sherlock decides not to fling himself across the room to separate the two of them.

The lesson ends and students are instructed to work on homework, but Sherlock decides it'd be a better use of his time to watch John. And goodness, he really looks amazing today. Sherlock loves his smile, his hair, his beautiful eyes, his perfect nose; everything about John Watson is simply gorgeous. Sherlock rests his head against his hand and continues watching.

He tries to figure out the mystery by finding other clues that night lead him to the conclusion. John had pancakes for breakfast-irrelevant. John walked to school-irrelevant. John took a shower this morning-interesting, but irrelevant. John worked outdoors all summer-irrelevant. Taking a closer look at that, Sherlock can tell by the way John's tan continues under the sleeve and collar of his shirt that John worked somewhere that he had his shirt off. Lifeguard? Again, interesting but irrelevant.

And then Sherlock notices something interesting. One of John's fairly attractive male friends goes to John and the girl, and John immediately starts to ignore the girl for the boy. Sherlock feels infinitely more jealous. That boy isn't good enough for John. John, who is incredibly smart at every subject, incredibly kind, breathtakingly beautiful, and so down to earth and easy going that Sherlock assumes he must meditate or do yoga.

He thinks about that: John doing yoga. Tight workout pants, a shirt with the sleeves cut off to show off his arms, sweat glistening over his neck, a blush on his cheeks, his muscles straining with the work.

Sherlock's suddenly very hot. He unbuttons the top button of his shirt.

Luckily, or unluckily since Sherlock can't stare at John anymore, the bell rings and their teacher dismisses them. Sherlock rushes out of class, but not before one last longing look at a very happy appearing John Watson.

As soon as Sherlock steps out of class, he's met by a very nosy friend.

"Daydreaming about John again?"

Sherlock huffs.

"It just gets so warm in math that you have to unbutton your shirt?"

Sherlock rolls his eyes and buttons his shirt again. "Leave it."

"Okay, okay. But the least you could do for yourself is talk to him one day. What's the harm in that?"

Sherlock doesn't reply, but he thinks that the harm in talking to John is actual rejection. He couldn't stand for that. John probably doesn't like him, probably wouldn't ever like him, but Sherlock tries to push the thought from his mind to enter his science class.


	3. Chapter 3: Tip One, Steal

"Oh god," Sherlock mutters as he and Clara walk down the school hall. They're not supposed to have their mobile phones at school, and they certainly aren't allowed to know the Wi-Fi password, but Sherlock has his phone on him at all times (like most students) and knows the Wi-Fi password (unlike most students). Now that the school day is over, he catches up on what he missed on Tumblr.

"What?" Clara asks.

"Johawa has a crush on some bloke. Poor man."

"Who? You actually feel sorry for johawa?"

Sherlock snorts. "Of course not, I feel sorry for the boy who's caught the attention on that pathetic form of human life."

"You're so mean," Clara says with a laugh.

"Let's see," Sherlock says. He reads from the other blog: "_This guy is the most beautiful boy at my school and probably doesn't even know my name. I'm nothing, and he's everything. He's perfect. He's incredibly intelligent, probably fits under the technical 'genius' category, he's so beautiful that he could model for every fashion name out there, and he's so talented that he could play any instrument in his sleep. I don't even know him and I feel like…I feel like my heart actually beats when he's near._" Sherlock finishes with the paragraph and mimics vomit noises. "I can't believe this post has over three-hundred notes."

"Mhm," Clara mutters.

"And the way johawa talks about him. _Perfect? _Really? A _genius_? That's a bit much, don't you think? And _any _instrument? Come on. That's not realistic at all."

"Sounds to me like you're jealous."

"_JEALOUS?!_" Sherlock cries. "What on earth would I be jealous for?"

"Because you love johawa and you want to make little Tumblr popular babies with him."

Sherlock scoffs. "That's the most idiotic thing you have ever said."

"Why? Because two men can't make a baby?"

"Of course," Sherlock says without thinking about it.

Clara grins. "Not because you don't love johawa?"

"I—of course I—I—" Sherlock blushes. "Oh, shut up!"

Clara laughs harder. They're passing the science lab and she nods towards the door. "Speaking of unrequited love."

Sherlock looks into the door to see John Watson working at the last table. He's carefully reading from their science textbook and drop by drop applying one liquid to another. Sherlock watches John's eyebrows perfectly pushed together in thought, and he wishes to smooth the wrinkle away with the pad of his thumb. He doesn't wish for John to look like that, like he's struggling.

"You should go help him," Clara says.

"No, no no no, no way."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because…" Clara retorts. "Because you might be helping him with science one minute and proposing the next?"

Sherlock playfully shoves her. "Shut up."

"Just go in there," Clara says. "Ask if he needs help. The worst that can happen is he says no. Actually, he'd say, 'no, thank you,' because he's a polite little bastard."

Sherlock chuckles, then takes a deep breath. "You really think I should?"

Clara nods.

"Okay," Sherlock agrees. "How do I look?"

"Like you could model for any fashion name out there. Johawa doesn't know what he's missing."

Sherlock can't help but blush all the way to the tips of his ears. "Shut up," he demands. "And don't say that name in my presence."

Clara laughs. "Go in there. Have fun, loverboy."

Sherlock glares at her for a second before she shoves him into the room and darts away.

* * *

><p>Drop.<p>

Drop.

Drop.

Still no change. John frowns and curses under his breath. This would be just his luck. Looking around at all the other students who are getting extra tutoring for chemistry (he still can't believe he's one of those kids who needs tutoring after two weeks in the class), they're all plowing through and making the solution turn. He's still stuck on step two.

"You know, it'd work better if you drop faster."

John is so startled by the sudden booming voice behind him that he drops the entire test tube that he's so carefully been emptying into the beaker. It foams up instantly and John's finished with his experiment.

"Told you."

John recognizes that voice the second time. Many times has he heard that voice do talented things like shout the answer to a math problem before the teacher's even done writing it on the board or telling students things about themselves that they probably don't even notice.

John slowly turns around to find Sherlock Holmes standing there. He swallows nervously.

"I, uh…" John licks his lips. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. I don't know why the book says to drip it all so slowly. When I did it, I just dumped it all in and it worked…well." Sherlock gestures at John's solution.

John nods, unsure of what to say. If he opens his mouth, stupidity would probably flood out like '_Why are you talking to me?_' and '_Do you even know my name?'_

Sherlock continues. "I don't think we've ever actually met, I'm Sh—"

"Sherlock."

_Fuck! _John yells in his head. _That was stupid! _

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, pretending he could rewind ten seconds, but when he opens his eyes, he finds Sherlock giving him a tiny smile.

"And you are John," he says.

John's head just about explodes. _He knows my name! _his brain yells, but just as quickly he shoots himself down.

"Lucky guess," John replies. "It's, like, the most common name in the world, you were bound to get it right."

"I never guess," Sherlock says, looking surprised. "But I—we…we're in math together."

John is shocked for a moment because he wouldn't have ever thought Sherlock notices him in class. John doesn't talk that often, he certainly tries his best to not get called on, and a few of Sherlock's friends are in there, so he spends the entire class only paying attention to them. John's never even seen Sherlock glance at him.

"Of course I know you're in that class," Sherlock says.

John's eyes grow wide. "How did you—"

"Shock is written all over your face. So anyway," Sherlock adds, "Uhm…I was wondering if you'd…"

John nods once, then turns to gather his stuff. "Sure, of course, if you need this table I'll just—"

He hears Sherlock chuckle behind him and feels incredibly embarrassed. He made a fool of himself and all Sherlock wanted was his seat, and now Sherlock's laughing at him. John squeezes his eyes shut and wishes he could disappear. He tries to remember where the nearest cliff is so he can jump off it.

But suddenly, there's a hand on his shoulder. John glances down at it and Sherlock quickly retracts it.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock mutters. "And you have the wrong idea. I was just wondering if you'd want any help with any more experiments we have to do. I can give you a few tips to getting a better result."

John had slowly turned back to Sherlock, and now he's aware that he's blushing. Sherlock wants to help him study. Of course he'd like the help, if not because _it's Sherlock,_ but also because he could really use the help.

_You won't know until you try, _John replays in his head.

Then, he nods.

Sherlock smiles. "Perfect." He shrugs his backpack off and sets it on the table next to John's. "First tip," he says, grabbing the beaker John has been using. "Get a better beaker. This one's so old that you can hardly see the lines of measurement on it."

"Well, that's the only one available by the time I get here. Everyone always takes the good ones."

"Leave it to me," Sherlock says, leaving John at the table.

John thinks he's going to go ask someone for theirs, which anyone would gladly do. But instead, Sherlock strolls to the teacher's desk, grabs an extra packet of the experiments they need to be doing, and on his way back he casually snags the beaker from the girl three tables in front of John. She doesn't even notice, and Sherlock switches them so coolly that the girl doesn't even look up from her packet.

Sherlock grins at John when he sets the beaker down, and John is just amazed.

"Wow," John says. "So, stealing is the first tip you're giving me to better my experiment results." He didn't really mean to make a joke, he just meant to say 'thank you' and move on, so his cheeks heat up when he finishes.

And Sherlock _laughs. _He actually laughs at John, hard, like what John said was actually funny.

"I didn't steal it," Sherlock argues, "I just…borrowed it."

John looks up at the girl who Sherlock stole the beaker from and sees her pick up the new one, look at it with the most confused expression, then glance around at whoever stole hers. John elbows Sherlock and nods towards the girl, and when Sherlock sees what she's doing, they both begin to laugh uncontrollably.

* * *

>They finish every experiment in the packet before anyone else even gets halfway done, and Sherlock thinks John seems to grasp it all fairly well. If he doesn't, he's very good at pretending he did.<p><p>

Before they part, Sherlock asks John if he'll need any help anytime soon.

"Oh, I hope not," John replies to that.

Sherlock frowns. He doesn't know what John means. Is John opposed to spending more time with him? Did John not want his help today? Sherlock's never panicked like this before, but this is the rejection he was fearing coming to life.

John goes on, not noticing Sherlock's little meltdown. "I hope I can remember everything you told in there. Hopefully I won't need any more tutoring. Can't be a doctor if you need a tutor in science."

Sherlock is still confused. Does John just not want to see him in _this _setting, or does John not want to see him at all?

He decides just to ask, that's what Clara would tell him to do. "So...what about..._not _help, then?"

John looks at him. "Uhm...what?"

Sherlock wants to scream. He's never done this before, so of course he's nervous, but he _really _wants to see John again.

"Doyouwanttohangoutoutsideofschool?" Sherlock asks quickly, as if it's all one long word.

John's confused face slowly soothes. "You want to hang out with _me_?"

"Yes," is all Sherlock says, fearing he'll start yelling something like '_I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to!_"

John smiles. "Sure. That sounds fun."

Sherlock smiles back. "Great," is all he squeaks out, then immediately turns around and walks away. Plans can be made later, for now he needs to let out the nervous breath he'd been holding.


	4. Chapter 4: Just Do It

_**A/N: Warning for language. Talks of dicks and things. Thanks for reading, please review!**_

* * *

><p>Everything about John Watson is unnaturally uncomplicated, in Sherlock's opinion. Sherlock asks John if he wants to get together outside of school, John says yes. Sherlock asks if John wants to go out to dinner, <em>alone, <em>and John says yes. Sherlock tells John that he likes him, like _that, _and John says he likes Sherlock, too.

They've been hanging out together for nearly two weeks and Sherlock has been bursting at the seams to tell John how he feels about him.

His infatuation with John started long before that day in the science lab, but the moment he saw John's wide smile and heard his easy little laugh, he knew that he wanted to be with John Watson in more ways than just lab partners. He quickly realized that he wants John's everything, and he wants to _be_ John's everything.

Every bit of John's being lights up when Sherlock tells him how he feels, then John returns it just as quickly in an uncomplicated way. Sherlock seals the deal by kissing John, and John joins in just as easily.

The night after Sherlock kisses John for the first time, he lays in bed blogging about it.

_"It appears as though I have a new boyfriend,_" he types, adding a smiley face at the end. It gets congratulatory note after note, and eventually his favorite person ever on the site finds it.

_johawa reblogged your post and added: congratulations, even dickheads deserve to be happy._

Sherlock lets out a loud laugh and immediately types back:

_ johawa fuck off_

* * *

><p><em>Great news everyone! <em>

John types alone in his bedroom. His lips are still tingling from the epic makeout session he and Sherlock just shared, and since he actually felt Sherlock's tongue against his, he thinks he's safe to start blogging about his one-month boyfriend to his thousands of followers.

He continues:

_I am now going out with perfect guy. He came to me, actually, which was surprising, and now I couldn't be happier. Wish me luck!_

John sighs contently and picks up his phone to check if Sherlock's texted. They just left each other about eight minutes ago, but Sherlock usually resumes a conversation they'd been having earlier that day. But Sherlock hasn't texted yet, so John continues scrolling Tumblr.

Twenty minutes later, he starts to feel nervous as to why Sherlock hasn't texted him yet. Did he do something wrong? Did he do something Sherlock didn't like? What if Sherlock wants to break up with him? What if Sherlock hates his guts?

John takes a deep breath and opens a new text post on Tumblr.

_One difficult thing about going out with him is that I want to seem so calm and collected with him and it's so hard sometimes. I don't want him to think I'm some depressed loser who second guesses every little thing, so I usually go along with whatever he says immediately after he says it. I don't want him to see the anxiety I go through when he asks me a simple question like where I want to sit for lunch, I don't want him to see me being nervous about every little thing. And that's so hard. Because if he finds out I'm like this, he might not ever want to talk to me again. I want to be as confident as he is, and I don't think he'd understand that I'm not. Sigh…I guess I just need to get over it._

He posts the text and continues scrolling, but a second later his phone goes off. He jumps to answer it, seeing a text from Sherlock.

**From Sherlock Holmes: John, sorry, my brother was being stupid. I miss you**

John sighs relief, all nervousness that he did something wrong leaving him immediately. He goes to his blog to delete that last post, it all said in an act of fear, but he sees that there are already notes on it.

_scientificpirouette reblogged your post and added: yes, get the fuck over it. He's not going to want to ever shag you if he finds out you're a whiney baby_

John frowns. Of course it's _him, _the single worst human being on the planet. Honestly, the fact that this man feels the need to torment him every single day says that there's something totally off about that guy.

John's phone rings again.

**From Sherlock Holmes: John?**

John clears his head of scientificpirouette and replies to Sherlock.

Calm and collected. No freaking out that Sherlock didn't text him half an hour ago.

**To Sherlock Holmes: Sorry, distracted. I miss you too.**

He goes back to Tumblr and glares at the screen, trying to think of a witty reply for scientificpirouette. Or a kind reply. His mother did always say to kill them with kindness.

He's about to hit reblog when a notification pops up that someone else reblogged the post. A random URL of someone who follows him reblogged it and added, "_God damn will you two just fuck already?_".

John's jaw drops, scandalized by the thought. There's no _way _he'd _ever _consider even looking scientificpirouette in the eye, and this person is suggesting they do _that_?!

Outraged, John hits reblog.

_WHAT?!_ is all he types.

Less than a second later, a fourth party reblogs it.

_Thank god someone said it. We can all smell the sexual tension._

John is positively _shocked. _The idea that numerous people feel this way about him and scientificpirouette is disgusting!

But of course, the other boy gets to it before John can reblog it.

s_cientificpirouette reblogged your post and added: I wouldn't touch johawa with a one million foot long pole!_

Even more annoyed at the reply, for reasons that he doesn't even want to think about, John grins wickedly and types.

_I wouldn't want you to touch me with your two inch pole scientificpirouette_

To calm down, he texts Sherlock back after Sherlock asked if he'd like to go to a movie tomorrow night.

**To Sherlock Holmes: Sure, pick the movie. I don't care what it is.**

As he's texting, a _fifth _party joins the conversation.

_YOU JUST BLOGGED ABOUT scientificpirouette's DICK_

John blushes, and he has no idea why. It's not like any of this means anything, but he does realize his mistake and quickly wishes he could retract the statement. Unfortunately, it's all out there, for all the world to see.

And of course, scientificpirouette is the first to reblog that.

_scientificpirouette reblogged your post and added: an inaccurate theory about my dick, but nonetheless thank you for the thought_

John blushes harder, then decides he's done with the internet. He exits out of Tumblr and gives focus to his lovely Sherlock and their conversation.


	5. Chapter 5: Do You Think I'm Sexy?

_**A/N: Hello! So this story is written, pretty much done, but I don't know how often I'll be uploading from now on. Hopefully at least weekly, but I just started a new job and I am soooo tired at night. So please be patient. And I hope you enjoy. Please review!**_

_**This chapter has a warning for sex.**_

* * *

><p>They easily keep their relationship under wraps. If given the chance, they'd both shout their affection for the other from the rooftop. But John still isn't comfortable with it, and Sherlock just wants him to be happy.<p>

Away from school, they're inseparable. For the past four months, they've spent time together every afternoon, they go on dates just like everyone else. Though, usually, they just go to each other's houses and "study"-which means they make out on every surface they can.

They like going to Sherlock's house better because they get a chance to hide from the biggest big mouth on campus: Harry Watson. She doesn't know about John dating Sherlock, he has no idea what she'd say, but judging by how much she made fun of him for having an account on a pointless website, John doesn't think it'd go well.

But tonight, Harry decides she _needs _to hang out with her brother and his newest 'friend'.

"You don't have to come over if you don't want to," John tells Sherlock over the phone when he relays Harry's request.

"No, I would, really," Sherlock says. "It's just that Clara is here and she's really insistent that I never make time for her anymore."

John laughs. "That's what Harry is doing to me."

Sherlock snorts. "These terrible women in our lives."

John laughs harder.

Sherlock is silent for a second, but then he gasps. "Hey, I've an idea. If I could bring Clara over, we can all hang out."

"Why didn't I think of that? Sure, come on over."

"Great," Sherlock says, "We'll be there in a little while."

John hangs up with Sherlock and starts to close down his computer. He scrolls Tumblr for a while longer and tries to leave it, but it's so addicting sometimes.

He opens a new text post and decides to tell his followers that he's hanging out with his boyfriend and his family for the first time. He says he's nervous but excited at the same time. With that, he exits out and heads downstairs.

* * *

><p>Sherlock stands at his closet's full length mirror and fluffs his hair. Clara is reclined on his bed reading from her phone.<p>

"Johawa is talking about hanging out with his boyfriend tonight," Clara announces.

Sherlock grunts. "Why are you sharing this with me?"

"You'll see it eventually," she explains. "Are you jealous?"

Sherlock laughs. "Jealous? Why on earth would I be jealous?"

"Because you love him."

Sherlock leaves his closet and goes to her. "How many times do I have to tell you that I do not like him!"

"It's not just me you have to convince," Clara says. "It's the entire internet world."

Sherlock shakes his head. "I have to admit, it is amusing how flustered he gets when someone says something about the two of us."

"This most recent post of his has a bunch of notes, and most of them are asking if you're his boyfriend."

Sherlock groans. "Oh, god."

"You should make a statement."

Sherlock grins wickedly. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens Tumblr.

"_Dear people of the internet_," he reads as he types. "_I am not and would not ever date at-Johawa unless he was really hot. Luckily my boyfriend is already hot so I will pretty much never date at-Johawa. I will refrain from writing about how pathetic I find poor at-Johawa simply because I don't have time to write an entire 10 paragraphs. I hope you all understand. _And post."

Clara laughs loudly. "You did not just post that."

"I most definitely did," Sherlock says, standing from his bed. "Let's go. We've got a double date."

Clara grins and follows Sherlock out of the room.

* * *

><p>John drops himself at the kitchen island while Harry gets hot and fresh chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. He tosses his phone on the counter with a groan.<p>

He's just read scientificpirouette's post and he feels terrible. He thought about deleting his account to get away from that jerk, but he's above that. He was taught not to let anyone get under his skin like that. And scientificpirouette is some guy who hides behind the internet to hurt others, John doesn't want to waste his time thinking about someone like that.

Still, it stings. However, it helps that a lot of the replies to scientificpirouette's posts are kind words to John. A lot of people are really supportive and tell scientificpirouette not to be such an arse.

"Harry," John starts while Harry delicately pulls hot cookies off the sheet. "Do you think I'm attractive?"

"I am your sister."

John chuckles. "No, just…in general. Am I…do you think others would find me attractive?"

Harry looks at him over her thick-rimmed glasses. She shrugs. "Yeah."

"I mean," he tells her, "You're attractive. And we look alike. Right?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

John frowns.

"Why are you asking?" Harry asks.

John shrugs. "Just wondering."

"Well," she says, "You're wondering if anyone will ever like you and you shouldn't worry. You _are _cute, not to mention you're really nice and anyone would be lucky to have you."

"Really? You mean that?"

"Yes, of course."

John cracks a smile. "Thanks, Harry."

She smiles at him, then goes back to her cookies.

* * *

><p>Sherlock and Clara arrive twenty minutes later. John tries to perk up a bit, but his insecurity still lurks in his mind. Sherlock discreetly smiles at him, he flirts with John when Harry turns her back, but John still keeps his frown.<p>

Finally, after what seems like a signal was given between Sherlock and Clara, Clara asks for Harry to show her where the restroom is. Harry happily agrees, so they both trot upstairs, leaving Sherlock and John alone on the sofa.

Sherlock turns to John. "Okay, what is wrong?"

John shrugs. "Nothing."

"Not nothing," Sherlock pokes his side. "Tell me."

John sighs. "Look, it's just…okay, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"Do you…find me attractive?"

Sherlock starts to laugh. He actually _laughs. _John is so hurt that he throws himself off the sofa.

Sherlock follows him up. "John, wait. You misunderstand my laughter. I'm laughing because…because that's so absurd!"

"Yeah, yeah," John says. "It's absurd that you'd find me attractive at all—"

"No!" Sherlock cries. Then suddenly his hands are holding John's head still and he's invading John's mouth with his tongue.

John feels him everywhere, Sherlock squirms against him while running his hands along John's body. Nothing is left untouched; John's neck, a tug at his hair, his shoulders, his chest, a hand trails down to his hip, and Sherlock holds onto him tightly. John pretty much stands still, enjoying the feel of Sherlock on him.

Eventually, Sherlock herds John backwards to the sofa, where he shoves John to sit down and straddles John's hips.

"You want to know how attractive I find you?" Sherlock whispers against John's lips. John lets out a short groan, then Sherlock grabs John's hand and presses it against his crotch. "I was half hard when I arrived and now I'm—" John gives him a gentle squeeze through his pants and Sherlock moans. "—I'm about to—"

John gets one hand up his shirt and the other hand stays at Sherlock's cock. His head swims, he doesn't even think about the fact that he's actually having sex (hot, clothed sex on his sofa) with Sherlock, he just holds tight and lets Sherlock ride it out.

Sherlock tips John's head back and licks at his throat.

"You smell so good," Sherlock whispers, "Fuck, John, I want you to take my clothes off and…and lick me everywhere."

John imagines it. He imagines taking Sherlock's fancy clothes off, spreading Sherlock out on his bed, and doing exactly as Sherlock asks. His skin would be burning under John's tongue, hot and silky smooth and wet.

John's eyes snap open and he remembers where he is. On his sofa, his sister just upstairs, with Sherlock two seconds away from coming on his lap.

"Sherlock, my sister—"

"Won't come down until I go up to get Clara don't worry. John, please—"

John thinks about stopping for about three seconds before he tightens his grip through Sherlock's jeans and strokes as well as he can, then Sherlock groans into his mouth and John know he's coming.

_Oh my god, _John thinks, swallowing Sherlock's moans. It's the single sexiest thing he's ever seen, and honestly his insecurity flies out the window.

"John," Sherlock sighs as he starts to calm. He blissfully smiles. "It's not that I don't love it, but could you please loosen your grip on my penis?"

John quickly pulls his hand away. "Oh god, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. That was—"

"Awesome," John supplies.

Sherlock smiles and kisses him slowly. Seconds later, he pulls away. "What do you want me to—"

"Nothing," John says.

Sherlock frowns.

"God, not like that," John tries, sensing Sherlock's awkwardness. "I didn't mean…not _never, _just not right now, okay?"

Sherlock slowly nods, avoiding John's gaze.

John places a hand on his cheek and makes Sherlock look at him.

"Some other time, okay? When we have more time and I can actually get your pants off."

Sherlock nods.

John kisses him again. It doesn't help the state of his arousal, but he doesn't want to let Sherlock go.

A toilet flushes upstairs and John suddenly remembers again that they're not alone. He pulls away from Sherlock's heavenly mouth and tells Sherlock they should part and calm. Sherlock stands to right his clothing.

"You can use my mum's bathroom to…" John glances at Sherlock's crotch and licks his lips. "Uhm…clean up."

Sherlock smirks. "Thanks," he mutters, then goes to John's mother's bedroom to use her bathroom.

* * *

><p>Sherlock sends Clara a text telling her they can return downstairs now. He cleans up as quickly as he can, then spends a minute to check Tumblr.<p>

Of course there are plenty of notifications on his post about johawa. Most of them are comments saying what a jerk he is, a select few of them are replies about their sexual tension, but none of it matters to Sherlock.

Surprisingly, there isn't a reply from johawa. Usually he says something back, something witty or somewhat kind (trying to make Sherlock feel bad) but there's nothing.

Partly disappointed with the lack of a fight with the anonymous boy tonight, Sherlock pockets his phone again and returns to John in the sitting room.


	6. Chapter 6: Get Lost So We Can

_**A/N: this chapter has a warning for sex. I'm sure nobody's complaining. **_

* * *

><p><strong>12 New Messages<strong>.

John frowns. He doesn't remember posting about anything hate-worthy. He hasn't gotten personal in about a week, and he and scientificpirouette haven't fought in that amount of time.

He opens the inbox on Tumblr and is immediately lost.

The first eight messages are different people asking if he has a sister. He decides to address this publicly rather than reply to individual messages.

_"Why is everyone so concerned over whether or not I have a sister?"_

Reblogs and replies come instantly. The first one is a link to a scientificpirouette post.

_Oh fuck no that prick didn't find my sister_, John thinks, opening the link.

That's not it at all. It's just a post by scientificpirouette saying that his best friend made out with his boyfriend's sister and he's wondering whether or not he should tell said boyfriend.

John opens up another text post.

"_Rest assured, dear followers, nobody's made out with my sister_." John thinks back on the few boyfriends Harry's had in the past and adds, "_Except maybe the few boyfriends she's had. But I don't know, I don't ask her about her sex life._"

John waits a while, at least waits forscientificpirouette's reply, but nothing argumentative comes. No doubt the other boy was also receiving messages along these lines.

John checks his watch and gasps. Sherlock is due to arrive in five minutes, and they have a very eventful evening planned.

Well, John does.

It's Saturday night and he's made Harry promise to leave him alone. Their mother is working late, so John is hopeful that tonight is the night that he and Sherlock can get intimate.

Of course, Harry had to know why he wanted the house to himself.

"I've, uh," John froze when she asked yesterday. "I…"

Harry's face cracked into a grin. "You're inviting someone over, aren't you?"

_Someone_, John thinks. As long as she doesn't knowit's Sherlock, he doesn't care who she thinks he's bringing over.

Harry agreed to make herself scarce, only because she mentioned that 'it's about damn time her brother gets laid'. Which is fine to John, they've never had any secrets (except Sherlock) so he didn't expect this to be a secret (except that it is).

John exits out of all the social networking sites he was on and rushes downstairs after one more look at his tidy bedroom. He does a mental checklist: condoms are in the drawer (which he proudly bought himself), there's plenty of lube, and his sheets are clean.

The doorbell rings as he gets off the stairs. John sniffs his armpits to make sure he still smells good from his shower, then he excitedly opens the door.

Sherlock sweeps into the house and gives John a quick kiss before shedding his coat.

John doesn't know what to say right away. He wants to be smooth, romantic, but he doesn't want to do something so weirdly out of the ordinary to make Sherlock think that John expects sex tonight. They'd talked about it already, sure, John's not just going to spring it on him, but it's not like they planned for tonight. John hopes Sherlock finds it a happy coincidence that Harry is out.

"Where did you kick Harry out to?" Sherlock asks with a grin.

_So much for that_, John thinks. "I didn't kick her out," he says, trying to play it cool. "I simply suggested she—"

"Get lost so we can fuck?"

John laughs. Sherlock crowds close to him and places his hands on John's chest.

"And listen," John says, "My mum will be home after I'm in bed, so if you want you can spend the night."

Sherlock's eyes brighten. "But what will you tell Harry?"

John shrugs and strokes Sherlock's hips. "I'll tell her it didn't work out so I invited you over."

Sherlock leans in and brushes his lips against John's. "You're not going to tell her how I sucked you off before you fingered me to completion?"

John huffs out a breath and shivers. "I…well, I—"

Sherlock chuckles, then captures John's lips in a hot kiss. His hands roam all over John's quickly fevering body, and John can't keep up. He kisses back with all he's got, but Sherlock is just too skilled at reducing him to a slow blob.

Sherlock pulls back just long enough to ask, "Can we go upstairs, then?" before he dives back in for another sweltering kiss.

John's head spins. He barely has any control to walk Sherlock back on the stairs.

John leads Sherlock about halfway up the stairs before he falls over. Hard ridges dig into his back, but he doesn't care; Sherlock eagerly straddles his thighs and thrusts his hips down, grinding their clothed cocks together.

"God, Sherlock…" John moans; he holds onto Sherlock's hips tightly and Sherlock thrusts again. John whines. "I don't want to come in my pants, I want to come in you."

Sherlock blush spreads down to his neck, disappearing under his shirt. John leans up and licks at his collarbone.

"It'll take the edge off and we can start up again in a little while."

John is torn. He could easily get it up again in a short while, and Sherlock is fucking him into the stairs through their jeans.

"At least let me get my jeans off," John begs.

Sherlock yanks his shirt off over his head, then reaches for John's button and zipper. John pinches Sherlock nipples, rolls the hard buds between his fingers while Sherlock's long fingers work his fly down.

Sherlock quickly stands to pull his jeans down, and John laughs when they get caught on one of Sherlock's ankles. With a growl, Sherlock leaves them, moving instead to pull at John's until John lifts his hips to let Sherlock shimmy them down his thighs.

Once ready, Sherlock climbs on top of John again. He resumes expertly rotating his hips on top of John, rubbing their cocks together with perfect friction.

John throws his head back against the stairs and claws at Sherlock's bare back. He closes his eyes and imagines fucking Sherlock like this. Sherlock's skill with his hips is astounding, John is sure Sherlock can work his cock in all the right ways. This way, John's knees are spread enough that Sherlock will be spread wide open for him. His cock will slide into Sherlock so easily and hotly that, thinking about it, John feels his orgasm build already.

"John…" Sherlock moans, and god his voice. It's so deep it's unrecognizable; it's a voice dipped in sex.

Sherlock rubs John just the right way about three more times before John is coming with a low shout. And god, it's hot. Sherlock sucks his earlobe and moans wildly, his hips still snapping as he seeks his own orgasm.

As soon as he begins to calm, John tugs Sherlock's pants down a little ways and grabs his arse. Sherlock throws his head back, then tugs John's head with the hand on the back of his head. John follows Sherlock's lead to his nipple, where John sucks the bud into his mouth.

And then he can't help it; John shifts his hands lower until one finger is gently circling Sherlock's closed hole. His desire to fuck Sherlock grows more, even though he's just come and his cock is softening.

Sherlock comes only a second later. The head of his cock is poking out of the band of his pants, so white streaks soak along John's belly.

Sherlock gently yanks John's hair until John tilts his head up, then Sherlock invades his mouth in a sloppier version of their earlier kisses. It's hot. John already wants to go again, but his blood is slowly returning to his brain. No matter, they have enough time to fit in as many rounds as they can before Harry gets home.

John swallows roughly and looks up into Sherlock's eyes. "I lo—"

Sherlock's eyes turn sharp. His eyebrows tilt down and he looks concerned. "Were you just about to tell me you love me?"

John clears his throat. His hands are still on Sherlock's arse, for god's sake. Now was definitely not the time. It even shocked him.

Sherlock stares at him with more intent. His hands don't move from John's neck. "Do you?" he demands.

John doesn't know what to say. He says no, he's a foolish liar. He says yes, he might scare Sherlock away forever.

But honestly is always the best policy. So he slowly nods.

Sherlock attacks his lips again. He kisses John with confidence, but it's slower and more loving and John can feel Sherlock's emotion.

Sherlock pulls away and presses his forehead against John's. "I love you too," he whispers.

John can't help the smile that grows on his lips. "Technically, I haven't said it."

Sherlock smiles back. "Well, by all means."

John laughs. "I love you, Sherlock."

Sherlock dives in for another kiss, this one equally as loving but just a bit more heated.

"Are you going to snog me senseless each time I tell you I love you?" John asks when they break for air.

"Probably," Sherlock replies.

John chuckles. "Well good, because I love you a hell of a lot. Why don't we move this to my bed?"

Before he replies, Sherlock gives John a quick kiss. "How about some nutrients before round two?"

John laughs. "To the kitchen, then."

Sherlock climbs off John, then John's treated to the sight of Sherlock's half-naked body heading to the kitchen.

* * *

><p>For round two, they settle for teaching each other how to give and receive a blowjob. Sherlock loves every second of it, of course; the feel of John in his mouth is just as fulfilling as being in John's mouth.<p>

After they both get theirs (again), they go downstairs for a proper dinner. Sherlock isn't that hungry, honestly he'd rather lounge around John's bed (preferably he'd like to make John come again), but he knows that John needs his food.

"What would you like?" John asks when they get to the kitchen. "I can do chicken and rice, chicken and mashed potatoes, chicken and—"

"Is chicken my only option?" Sherlock asks.

John laughs. "No, but…" John reaches into the freezer and pulls out a frozen pizza.

Sherlock smiles widely. Pizza is the only thing he'll eat whether he's hungry or not.

"So you like pizza," John says.

"You knew I like pizza."

"Yeah, but I didn't know you liked pizza that much. You just looked at it the same way you looked at my…me."

Sherlock laughs. "Honestly, a pizza any day is just as appealing as your _you_."

John looks at him with an unsure expression. "So it…I…was…okay?"

Sherlock laughs again. John blushes.

"John, how can you even wonder that? Of course it's okay. It's…well, it's wonderful, actually, everything I imagined it to be."

John avoids Sherlock's eyes. "So you…you imagined it?"

It's Sherlock's turn to blush. "I didn't mean…you know…I didn't—"

John grins. Sherlock rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to his bare shoulder.

"Say," Sherlock starts, "Do you think we ought to get dressed in case your sister returns home early?"

"Nah, she'll call first. She knows I'm having sex right now. There's an agreement."

"Has the agreement been in place long or…"

Sherlock's looking for John to mention an ex-girlfriend or an ex-boyfriend, because he's been unable to deduce whether or not John's had sex before (and he doesn't really want the answer if it's a yes).

"Mmm…just since last summer when Harry wanted some time with an ex-boyfriend."

Though Sherlock's relieved that it hasn't been John's agreement, he's suddenly confused.

"Harry's…ex-boyfriend?" he asks.

"Yes," John says. "Why?"

_Because clearly you two don't share everything since she doesn't know you've got a boyfriend and you don't know she's hooking up with Clara._

"I just don't see Harry as the dating type," Sherlock lies (not that it's that far off a lie, but a lie nonetheless).

"I know, right? I was surprised when she started dating, but it hasn't been much. She's only had, like, two boyfriends."

_And a whole bunch of girlfriends, according to Clara._

"Huh," is all Sherlock replies out loud. If Harry was anyone else, he'd tell John the truth, but Sherlock doesn't want to get between John and his sister. It's none of his business (not that it ever is).

They chat for a while longer about different things, then their pizza is finished so they take it back up to John's bedroom to eat on the floor. John starts a movie on his laptop and they sit in silence to eat and watch.


	7. Chapter 7: Ship Tag

_**A/N: Somehow my chapters got all messed up, but this is directly after last chapter. Hope you enjoy, please review!**_

* * *

><p>Harry arrives home around ten, and by then John and Sherlock are sitting comfortably (separately) on the sofa watching a different movie.<p>

"Hey!" she says when she enters the house. She takes one look at Sherlock and looks confused. "I thought you were…entertaining…_not_ Sherlock…"

John nervously chuckles. "Fell through. I called him over to have pizza and watch movies."

"Aww!" Harry cries, going to the sofa and sitting on the arm next to John. "Should've called me."

"That's okay," John quickly says. "What did you do?"

Sherlock knows exactly what she did. She smells like Clara, she has faint love bites on her neck, and she looks like she's been having sex. If she had a trained eye, she'd probably be able to tell they were having sex (hell, Sherlock can see tread marks where John was sitting on the stairs), but she doesn't say anything or look at them suspiciously. And John is equally as oblivious as she is.

"Oh, you know," Clara says in the same nervous tone John has.

Sherlock chuckles at it.

"What?" John asks.

Sherlock clears his throat and calms. "Nothing, sorry."

John just shakes his head and returns his attention to his sister. "Hey, you want some pizza?"

"I'd love some," Harry says.

John offers to get it, then darts out of the room.

Sherlock grins. He has to keep it from John that he knows about Harry and Clara, he doesn't have to keep it from Harry.

"How was Clara?" he innocently asks.

"Oh, she was fine, she—" Harry stops and looks at him. "How'd you know I was with her?"

"You smell like the lemon hand soap in her bathroom."

"Lemon is a common flavor. Lots of people must have it."

Sherlock laughs. "You just admitted to me you were with her."

Harry eyes him. "Are you going to tell John?"

"Tell him what? That you're sleeping with my best friend?"

Harry glares at him. "Listen—"

"No, I'm not going to tell him. It's none of my business, and frankly I don't care. But know that she's my best friend, and I will do anything for her."

"Is this the 'hurt her and they won't find your body' speech?"

"Oh good, I don't need to say it."

Harry stares at him for about three more seconds before her mouth twists up into a grin. "I can see why Clara and my brother like you so much."

Sherlock smiles back, but before he can reply John enters the room again.

"Two slices," John announces as he hands her the plate.

"Thank you dear," Harry says, ruffling his hair as he sits back down.

* * *

><p>Harry doesn't question Sherlock spending the night, and Sherlock thinks that for someone who is seeing a member of the same gender, she sure is oblivious. But then again, so is his boyfriend, so he doesn't let his thoughts remain there for long.<p>

They go up to John's room for bed around midnight, and John lends him a pair of pajamas to sleep in. John wears only pajama pants to bed, so Sherlock options to just wear the sleep shirt.

"You look hot," John sleepily mutters as Sherlock slips under the covers.

Sherlock kisses John's chest. "So do you."

"Mmm," John sighs. "I love you."

Sherlock kisses him, making John smile against his lips.

"I love you too," Sherlock whispers, then he settles onto his own pillow and closes his eyes.

* * *

><p>John checks his Tumblr while Sherlock is in the shower the next morning. There are the usual ten or more messages (today there are exactly ten), so he opens the inbox expecting something ridiculous.<p>

_Anonymous: go to the tag 'johauette'_

John's stomach drops and his blood boils.

"Oh no they fucking didn't…" he mutters to himself, typing the word into the search tags box.

They did. It appears the Tumblr community has taken to the idea of him and scientificpirouette so much that the fuckers started a ship tag. It's ridiculous. There are screen caps of arguments between the two of them, there are conspiracy theories that the two of them are together,there are illustrations of little featureless stick figures (him) and little dancing particles (scientificpirouette). It's enough to make John angrier than he's ever been.

He types out a quick post.

_scientificpirouette AND I ARE NOT TOGETHER. I DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM IN REAL LIFE. I HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND FOR SOME POOR SOUL HAS DECIDED TO DATE HIM. STOP SHIPPING US._

He slams a finger into the pad to post.

"John?" he hears coming from the door.

John slams his laptop shut before he can exit out of Tumblr. He turns to see Sherlock staring at him in shock. No doubt he can see John's anger.

"Yes?" John asks.

"Are you…alright?"

John rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Yes, I'm sorry. I saw something online that upset me."

"Oh, okay," Sherlock quietly says, entering John's room further. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

John shakes his head. Honestly, he can't think of a lie quick enough. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry."

Sherlock nods.

John finally notices that he's only in a towel. He's even too angry to get excited by it. "Is…are you okay?"

"I just remembered that I don't have any clean clothes. My jeans I can wear again, but I'd honestly rather not re-use my pants."

This makes John laugh. "Yes, of course, I'm sorry. I should've mentioned before you came over yesterday that you'd be able to spend the night."

"It's okay," Sherlock says.

John gets up and retrieves clean underpants and a clean shirt for Sherlock. He sits on the bed as Sherlock dresses. He tries all he can to calm while watching Sherlock, and it slowly works.

"What do you want to do today?" John asks.

"Well, I usually start my Sundays by eating breakfast."

John laughs. "You mean you actually plan a normal meal?"

Sherlock nods. "Sunday is like a refueling day. I usually eat, relax, maybe I read and do research or something. We don't have to read, but I'm actually quite hungry."

"I'll take you to breakfast then," John offers.

Sherlock smiles and agrees.

* * *

><p>Sherlock quickly checks Tumblr while John is at the counter ordering two coffees and two bagels. John usually doesn't ask what Sherlock's doing on his phone (unlike other nosy people), but he doesn't wish to be rude when John returns. He has enough time to check notifications, which leads him to a recent post he's tagged in from johawa.<p>

Sherlock laughs when he sees it. Honestly, johawa is so insistent that they're not together that it makes Sherlock want to go along with it. It makes him want to tease and add to the fire, too.

Clara's voice rings in his head. "It's because you love him!"

He definitely does not love johawa. He loves John Watson.

Sherlock has time to check replies to johawa's post while John is waiting for the food. They make him laugh.

"_we know you're lying"_

_"just fuck already"_

_"please plan a meet-up"_

"_I wish someone loved me like you_ _two_ _clearly love each other"_

Sherlock's so engrossed in the posts that he doesn't notice John's returned.

"What's so funny?" John asks, setting a cup of coffee down in front of Sherlock.

Sherlock leaves Tumblr and looks up at John. "Nothing."

John smiles and leans over to kiss Sherlock's cheek.


	8. Chapter 8: Don't leave

Over the next month, while trying to keep his relationship still hidden from his sister and trying to maintain the insistence to the entire internet that he is definitely not having cyber relations with a jerk on Tumblr, John spends the rest of his free time trying to get Sherlock addicted to various television shows.

He didn't think it'd be that hard, Sherlock gets highly interested in various things very quickly, but after days and days of watching many episodes of Doctor Who, Sherlock remains uninterested.

Finally, John gives up on Doctor Who and pops in the first season of Hannibal. Sherlock immediately dismisses it and gets on his phone.

"Hey come on," John tries. "I like this show and I have a feeling you will, too."

"Why would I?" Sherlock asks, not looking up from the tiny screen.

"It's got crime, blood, guts, murder…four of your favorite things. Five if you count me being here."

Sherlock cracks a smile. "For you, John Watson, I will give it a chance."

John watches him slide his phone back into his pocket. John smiles and quickly kisses Sherlock's cheek.

It takes Sherlock longer than John thought to figure out the big twist of the show, and when he finally does, Sherlock has to ask John to pause it so he can wrap his head around it.

Sherlock just stares at the screen. "So he's—"

"Yup."

"And that's—"

"Uh-huh."

"And it's—"

"Mhm."

Sherlock slowly shakes his head. "I love it."

John smiles widely and presses 'play'.

They finish the first season by the end of the weekend, and John is so happy. Sherlock loves it. He didn't think Sherlock would enjoy it this much, he thought maybe Sherlock would watch a few episodes uninterested and by the end of the first disc he'd be begging John to change it, but instead he was begging John to put in the second disc.

Since Sherlock spent the weekend at the Watson house, he goes home late Sunday afternoon. After he leaves, John finally has a chance to get on Tumblr. This is when he notices scientificpirouette's increase of reblogs about Doctor Who and Hannibal both. _Huh_, John thinks, _what a coincidence_.

He doesn't think any more of it, mostly because he doesn't have time to before Harry's calling him for dinner, but it's not like he cares that much anyway. Honestly, it just makes scientificpirouette seem a little bit more human and less freak-of-nature.

Before he logs out, he sees a text post from scientificpirouette saying he doesn't want to give his boyfriend the satisfaction of knowing he enjoys the shows. John actually laughs, knowing that is _so_ something Sherlock would do. But Sherlock, this time, was very vocal about his like and dislike of the shows John made him watch.

He replies to the post anyway.

_ scientificpirouette I regret to say this but that sounds like something my boyfriend would do_

* * *

><p>Sherlock laughs when he gets the notification.<p>

"What?"

"Johawa says that me not wanting to give John the satisfaction of introducing me to good shows is something his boyfriend would do, too."

"Ah, see, he would love you back if he knew you weren't a complete prick."

Sherlock's smile turns into a glare. "Shut up."

"And you didn't keep it from John how much you like Hannibal."

"Ahh, but I kept it from him how much I enjoyed Doctor Who. I would never hear the end of it."

"You know, normal people just say, 'This was great honey, let's do it again sometime'."

"Do you think John would like it if I called him 'honey'?"

Clara laughs. "That wasn't the point."

Sherlock grins. "Well, I didn't want all of our time to be spent watching Doctor Who."

"I've been getting Harry out of the house enough that it should be spent doing something else, for what I'm going through."

"Right," Sherlock mutters. "Pretend like you don't like the company of Harry Watson."

He catches Clara's bashful smile.

"Well, could you be bothered to get her out of the house again tomorrow night? John's mum works late and I'd like to—"

"Get your freak on with John?"

"Got it in one," Sherlock says (for the first time in his life; John says that a lot).

Clara laughs. "Fine."

"Take her on a real date."

"How do you know we don't go on real dates?"

"She always smells like your bedroom. More specifically, the fabric softener your mother washes your sheets with."

Clara blushes as much as her dark skin will show. "Well, I—"

"Don't bother defending yourself to me."

"I wasn't—" Clara pauses and gasps. "Sherlock! God, you are terrible!"

Sherlock chuckles, knowing what she's shocked about. "What?"

"You have got to stop saying shit like this to that poor boy!"

Sherlock shakes his head. "Why?"

"He's going to jump off a cliff or something one day and it'll be your fault."

"Ahh, he doesn't care."

"Poor johawa," Clara says. Making her voice deep like Sherlock's, she adds, "'That's the lowest insult I've ever received, do not compare me to your pathetic boyfriend.'He was trying to be friendly_!"_

"He was?" Sherlock asks.

"Are you serious?! You really thought he was being anarse?!"

"Well, I—"

Clara rubs her eyes. "Sherlock, Sherlock."

"Well I don't know!"

"Delete it."

"It won't matter, it's out there now."

Clara shakes her head disappointedly. "Why not lay off saying mean things to johawa for a while?"

A notification pops up that johawa has reblogged his reply.

"_My boyfriend is not pathetic, he's a better man than you will ever hope to be."_

"You should apologize," Clara says. Clearly, she's seen the reply, too.

"Not a chance."

"Then I hope you're happy with yourself."

"I am," Sherlock says. "John loves me and I don't care about the opinion of some internet low-life."

"Do you think John would love you if he knew you were cyber bullying a stranger?"

Sherlock frowns, suddenly guilty. "Well—"

"The answer is no, love." Clara stands from her spot on his bed and moves to stand behind him. "I've gotta go home. Just…leave him alone for a bit, okay? Don't reply."

Sherlock takes a deep breath. "I suppose I can do that."

Clara leans down and kisses the top of his head. "I'll take Harry out tomorrow. Enjoy yourself."

Sherlock nods, then Clara exits his bedroom.

Sherlock sits at his laptop and scrolls johawa's blog for far longer than necessary. He hadn't checked it in a while, not since he and John started spending every waking moment together (around month two), and he sees many posts that have never circulated his own dash. There are some about how afraid johawa is of everything. Johawa talks about how he doesn't want his family to find out that he's in a relationship with a boy, that he is afraid of not doing well in school, that he wants to join the military and isn't afraid to die, and most of his posts end in something cryptic about life being easier for himself and everyone if he wasn't around anymore. They're all vague suicide messages, and Sherlock actually feels…something.

He refreshes the page to see if there's anything new and there are a few posts. The top is a long paragraph where johawa explains that he's just gotten into an argument with his mother where she said he'd better stop spending so much time alone with his boyfriend (but johawa explains that his mother thinks they're just friends) because, according to johawa's mother, everyone will start thinking he's gay. And she says, 'they can't have that, can they?'. Johawa says he wishes he could disappear, he wishes he could have the courage to 'leave'.

Sherlock's heart fully sinks. He thinks about John, and thinks about how even though John doesn't want to tell his mum, he doesn't think John's mum would be as mean as johawa's. She's always a really nice lady and she never even knows Sherlock is there 'a lot' because she's always at work. But he feels sad because he'd never stand for John to be in that position.

He feels like calling John, but first he feels compelled to say something to johawa.

He clicks to send a message and types it out quickly, clicking send before he can stop himself.

_Don't leave. I wouldn't have anyone to fight with and then the internet would be dreadfully boring._

It's not a real apology, it's not even a real 'please don't kill yourself because I'd feel bad'. But a few minutes later he gets a reply in the form of a private message.

"_I won't."_


	9. Chapter 9: Kissing Toes

John doesn't tell Sherlock that his mother said he should stop hanging out with the other boy so much, or that it caused a huge fight, but a week later it's blown over. They go out together for their six month anniversary two weeks after the fight with his mother, and everything is positively perfect.

"So," Sherlock starts after the waiter leaves. "Clara says you two are going to start studying together for your upcoming exams."

"Yep," John replies. "We just thought it'd be easier to split the packet and then share notes. The exams aren't for a month, not until like two weeks before school ends, but we got the packets yesterday and wanted to start."

"That's a great idea," Sherlock says. "If I were in the class with you, I'd gladly help."

John smiles. "I know, but then we'd just end up having sex instead of studying."

Sherlock grins. "You've found my plan and it's not even happening."

John laughs. "I knew you had ulterior motives."

Sherlock leans over and kisses John quickly, before they can think about anyone noticing.

John still looks uneasy, and Sherlock obviously catches it.

"John, don't you think you should be comfortable with this by now?"

John frowns. "It's not that I'm not comfortable with it—"

"You're clearly uncomfortable. You won't hold my hand in public, you won't kiss me. Your mother doesn't know we're together. Does your sister even know?"

John looks down at his lap. "Well, I—"

Sherlock sighs. "Look, I…I feel like it'd be selfish of me to say to get over it, to tell them all or else I won't be with you, but I want you to be happy. And I don't feel like you're completely happy."

"I am completely happy, I promise. I'm so happy with you."

"With _me. _You're not happy with yourself."

"Since when did you turn so philosophical?"

"Since I started caring about you."

John looks up into his eyes. Sherlock looks so genuine and caring, John knows it's a look only reserved for him.

"I love you," John says in a normal tone. Usually, he'd whisper it or he wouldn't say it if he thought anyone would be able to hear, but he says it knowing fully well that anyone could hear.

Sherlock slowly smiles. "I love you, too."

John grabs Sherlock's hand. "These past six months have been…god, thinking about it, I can't believe I'm sitting here with you."

"Why is it surprising?"

"Because I liked you so much," John replies. "Because I hoped every day that I could at least have the courage to talk to you."

"And why didn't you?"

"Because you're _you, _you were so far out of my league I wasn't even playing the same game as you. Hell, you're still out of my league but you seem to have started sharing the same feelings for me anyway."

Sherlock chuckles. "John, you have no idea how much I liked _you_ before we started talking."

John's eyes widen in shock. "What?"

"That day I went into the lab to help you with your experiments? I didn't give a toss about your experiments, I just wanted to talk to you."

John laughs. "Why on earth would you have possibly felt that way about me?"

Sherlock suddenly looks annoyed. "Why on earth wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm..."

"I promise, John Watson, if you say one bad thing about not being good enough for me I will punch you."

Sherlock hates when John is down about himself, so John can tell Sherlock is serious. "Ok," he says, "I'm sorry."

Sherlock nods curtly and takes a sip of his water. "You know you're every bit perfect for me."

John doesn't, not with years of bullying and a continuation of the bullying on the internet. He's constantly reminded that he's not good enough for Sherlock.

"Hey," Sherlock whispers, now almost whispering in his ear. He continues, "I love everything about you. You're amazing."

John can't help the smile that creeps across his face. "You're the amazing one."

Sherlock shrugs. "I can't argue there."

John laughs. "At least we agree on something."

Sherlock smiles, then leans over and kisses his cheek.

* * *

><p>"I want to kiss every bit of you," John whispers much later when they're laying in Sherlock's bed. He climbs up on his knees while Sherlock turns onto his back and stretches out like a cat. "I might just do that," John says, picking up Sherlock's foot.<p>

Sherlock flexes his toes. "Not my foot!"

John grins and kisses Sherlock's big toe. Sherlock laughs and tries to squirm away, but John kisses the arch of his foot before Sherlock can yank it away.

When he lowers his foot, John wiggles onto his belly and pushes Sherlock's jeans up his ankle. He gets a line of four kisses before Sherlock's skinny jeans are too tight to push up his calf.

"If I'm going to go any further, I'm going to have to get these terrible jeans off."

Sherlock scrambles to get his jeans off, then John resumes his kisses up both of Sherlock's thighs. When he meets Sherlock's underpants, John starts to suck bruising kisses into Sherlock's inner thighs. Sherlock squirms under John's lips. John kisses further up until he's nuzzling the bulge in Sherlock's pants.

"Just take them off," Sherlock begs.

John doesn't argue, he gets Sherlock's pants off in record time. He licks and sucks while Sherlock moans and writhes under his touch. His breathing quickens, his hips stutter against the bed, and short minutes later Sherlock is pushing up into John's mouth and coming with a deep groan.

"God, John..."

John climbs up Sherlock's body with a satisfied grin.

"You're amazing."

John kisses him deeply.

After Sherlock takes care of John, they put their pants back on for bed. Sherlock begs John to spend the night, which John gladly agrees to do.

"I love you," John mutters, followed by a wide yawn.

Sherlock chuckles. "You're adorable."

John's yawn is cut off by laughter. "Did Sherlock Holmes just say adorable?"

"Only because you, John Watson, are adorable."

John kisses his nose. "Go to sleep, my love."

"Ok. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sherlock."

They both fall asleep fast, clutching each other tightly.


	10. Chapter 10: Outed

With a month and a half left of school, and a month until exams start, John and Clara agree to go to the library every other afternoon. John wanted to go every afternoon until the huge study packet is finished, but of course his boyfriend will not stand for that.

Sherlock walks them to the library that first day.

"My best friend and my boyfriend," he says, linking his arms in theirs. "I'll try not to be too jealous."

Clara grins. "Libraries are so private, and I find them romantic, don't you, John?"

"Mmm," John agrees. "So many hidden nooks and crannies and—"

"Ok, stop!" Sherlock cries, his cheeks brightening. "As if you two would be into each other anyway."

"What says I wouldn't be into her?" John asks, peering over Sherlock at the beautiful girl next to him.

"I would tell you what, but I don't feel comfortable saying such words in front of the lady."

John chuckles. Clara mimics a vomit noise. Sherlock leans over and kisses John lightly.

"Besides," Sherlock innocently adds, "Clara doesn't share the similar interest."

John glances over at the girl and she's blushing furiously. Sherlock is oblivious that he's said too much.

"I, uh…" John clears his throat. "That's great."

Clara awkwardly twirls her tight brown locks. She lets the ringlet go and it bounces happily back to her head. John watches her out of the corner of his eye, unsure of what to say. Obviously her sexuality is absolutely fine, he's in a relationship with a man for god's sake. But he doesn't wish for things to be more uncomfortable for Clara.

And honestly, John feels a little bit of anger towards Sherlock. He shouldn't have said anything like that without Clara's consent. She's obviously upset by it and Sherlock isn't even apologizing. Perhaps he thought John already knew, but that still doesn't give him the excuse to say things like that. John wonders if there's anyone Sherlock's outed him to. That doesn't sit well with him.

Finally, they arrive at the library. With a quick kiss and hug, Sherlock leaves the two of them alone.

Clara quickly darts up the stairs, clearly wanting to avoid conversation, but John follows and stops her before she can enter the building.

"Wait, listen," he says. "I'm sorry, on behalf of Sherlock, for what he just did. I mean, I know I don't have to tell you how he acts, you've known him an eternity longer than I have, but…I'm sorry."

Clara takes a deep breath. "Thanks, it's okay. I'm just a bit upset."

"I know, and you have every right to be."

"He just…" Clara looks off in the distance the direction Sherlock went. "He _always _does that. Not just to me, but to many kids we know. He doesn't believe in keeping it hidden. Me, personally, I'm fine keeping it to myself. I don't go through any inner struggle because I don't parade it around, I don't feel any less of myself because I don't like telling people right away. But he…he has to make it known to everyone that he's his own person and fuck their rules and he thinks less of people who aren't like that."

John frowns. "Really?"

Hurt must be written all over his face, because Clara rubs his shoulder and apologizes.

"It's okay," John says. Then he looks up at Clara. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Does my sister know you're a lesbian?"

"Yeah," Clara says.

"And she doesn't…she didn't…y'know…say anything?"

"Anything…anything negative?"

John nods.

"No. She's cool with it. Really supportive."

John is shocked. He kind of just always assumed his sister wouldn't be okay with it, he thought she might think it was gross or something. Thinking about it, he has no evidence to support that theory, but it was always easier to be safe than sorry.

"It might help in the long run to tell her," Clara says, as if reading his mind.

John nods. "Yeah," he says. "Thanks."

They share a quick, friendly hug before heading into the silent library. They work well together for hours before leaving and calling Sherlock to meet them for dinner. Clara suggests he call Harry, so he does. His stomach flips when he thinks about telling her tonight, so he inwardly vows to tell her _sometime_.

* * *

><p>They plan to work together two days later on Wednesday. This time they take a cab because it's raining and Sherlock decides to run off muttering words like 'case' and 'leads'.<p>

John and Clara silently sit together on their phones. Besides their bonding moment two days ago and John's sister, they don't really have much in common, John knows that, so the silence is relatively welcome. He scrolls on his phone looking for something interesting to show her to perhaps spark conversation.

Eventually, he finds something that might make her laugh. It's on his own blog, but he hopes she won't notice the URL at the top.

She laughs at the image he shows her. "Hey, you follow johawa?"

John swallows and decides to lie. "Uhm, yeah."

She nods in understanding. "Yeah, me too. Sherlock doesn't."

John looks at her, confused. "He…he has Tumblr?"

"Yeah. He practically stalks that dude's blog, but he doesn't follow him."

Even more confused, he asks, "Sherlock…stalks him?"

"Well, not actively, but he scrolls johawa's blog every day."

"Mmm," John mutters. "Interesting."

Long minutes pass, but John can't stop thinking about Sherlock 'stalking' his blog. He wonders if Sherlock knows it's him, but he really hopes not. After everything he's said on the blog, he really, really hopes Sherlock doesn't know it's him.

"Say," John starts, out of curiosity. "Sherlock doesn't follow johawa, why not?"

Clara shrugs. "He doesn't like johawa very much. He thinks johawa is pathetic."

John frowns deeply. "He does?"

"Yeah. Honestly, I think he's got a crush on johawa. He _always _talks about johawa, even if it's something he doesn't like about johawa. Hell, you've probably seen their ship name hashtag."

John's stomach drops. _There's no way, _he thinks. "What?"

"Johaouette. Half of that is Sherlock."

_No fucking way, _John thinks. His head spins. Sherlock is scientificpirouette. Wonderful Sherlock, his sweet boyfriend, is the horrible arsehole who torments him every day.

"So," John squeaks. He clears his throat. "Sherlock is scientificpirouette?" He needs to hear it again.

Clara nods. "Yeah, but I'm sure he wouldn't want me to tell you, so don't tell him. And I wouldn't worry about johawa. Sherlock loves you."

John nods, but honestly right now he doesn't believe that in the slightest.

The cab stops in front of the library and John can't stand to be out any longer. He wants to go home, somewhere safe, where he can shut himself out from the world forever.

"Hey, I suddenly don't feel very well. I think I'm going to head home."

Clara frowns. "Oh. Okay. You okay?"

John nods. "Yeah, just a nasty headache. I'll call you and we can reschedule, yeah?"

"Okay," Clara agrees, then John takes off down the street.

* * *

><p>AN: I hope you all are ready for this!

* * *

><p>AN: I hope you all are really for this!


	11. Chapter 11: I'm Sorry

**A/N: Angst! You all saw it coming. I wasn't going to upload this until tomorrow but I decided on today. Hope it doesn't ruin anyone's holiday (if you're in the US). **

**Also, this chapter and I think the next chapter have a warning for the suicidal thoughts I mentioned at the start. Don't worry too much**.

* * *

><p>Sherlock glances down at his phone vibrating on his desk. It's a text from Clara saying she'll be over in a minute, but Sherlock doesn't reply. If she'll be there in a minute, he can wait to ask why she's not at the library with John. Or better yet, wonder out loud why, if they're not at the library, John hasn't texted him.<p>

Clara does arrive minutes later, and nothing is wrong with her so clearly her and John didn't get into a fight or anything.

"Where's John?" he asks curiously.

"He had a headache, went home as soon as we arrived."

Sherlock nods and doesn't text John, since that's probably why John hasn't texted.

Clara flops down on Sherlock's bed. "So, he showed me something on Tumblr and it was on johawa's blog."

Sherlock glances at her. "John has Tumblr?"

"Yeah, he didn't know you have it either."

"You told him that I do?"

Clara nods.

Fear rushes through Sherlock. He usually doesn't regret anything he says on the site, anything he says to a certain someone on the site, but if John know that he's scientificpirouette, John might hate him because of how he acts. This can't be good.

"Did you tell him my URL?"

Clara looks up at him through her long eyelashes. "I, uhm…"

Sherlock buries his face in his hands. "Damn it!"

"Well, I'm sorry! It didn't occur to me to keep it a secret!"

"Even I know I'm a prick on that site, why would you tell him?!"

"You _outed me _to him!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. He's not going to hate you for being a lesbian!"

"Maybe you should have thought of all this when you started being a dick to johawa."

Suddenly, Sherlock can't breathe. It's like pieces to a puzzle are coming together, and his chest hurts so bad, it feels like it's caving in. His heart feels like it's about to burst.

"W-wait a second," Sherlock mumbles.

Clara grows a look of concern. "Love? You okay?"

Sherlock leans forward on his knees. "John's middle name is Hamish."

"What? So?"

Sherlock covers his face and mutters, . "_Jo_hn. _Ha_mish. _Wa_tson."

"Oh god…"

"And he knows who I am," Sherlock whispers, all of it setting in that there's no possible way he can make this up to John. There is no way John's just going to forget this.

And then it sets in that it's his John who feels that way, who talks about his suicidal thoughts and his struggles and…_him_. John talks about how much he loves Sherlock and Sherlock is so awful. This isn't forgivable, Sherlock knows that.

"I'm going to be sick," Sherlock whispers.

Clara hears him and rushes to grab the trash bin from under his desk, then situates it under his head that's now hanging between his knees. His stomach gurgles and he hurls into it, quickly regretting eating the lunch that John made him eat.

Suddenly, his phone rings loudly through the room and he bursts into tears.

"Tell me it isn't John," he says through his hands.

"It's John," Clara whispers.

Sherlock cries roughly into his hand. He knows John is calling to break up with him. John isn't the type of person to stand by and let someone else treat him poorly (he has a million post replies stating such thing), and Sherlock can't take it. His heart breaks.

"Are you going to answer it?" Clara asks.

Sherlock nods and sits up, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath before he coolly, yet shakily, answers.

"Hey, love."

"Sherlock," John sternly says on the other side. "We need to talk."

Tears fall. Sherlock pulls the phone away to sniffle, then holds it to his ear again. "Okay."

"Meet me…at the park. Twenty minutes."

Sherlock nods, not trusting his voice, then John hangs up. He cries freely and Clara takes him in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," Clara says to him.

Sherlock can't even bring himself to blame her. It's his fault, and for the first time in his life he'll take responsibility for something that's going wrong in his life. For hurting someone who doesn't deserve it.

"I have to…I have to clean up."

Clara lets him go and he stands.

"Wear something sexy," Clara jokes.

Sherlock lets out a pathetic chuckle. "God, I love him so much."

"I know," Clara says. "And I always knew I was right about your crush on johawa."

Sherlock laughs again. "Shut up!"

Clara wipes tears from his cheeks. "It'll be okay."

Sherlock takes a deep breath and nods. Clara stands on her toes to kiss his forehead, then she leaves the room so he can get ready.

* * *

><p><p>

John gets to the park early because he doesn't trust himself to be home alone. After he left Clara at the library, he took a detour through the least busy (so the cars could go the actual speed limit) street around his neighborhood and contemplated stepping out into traffic. He watched the cars go by at the top speed and just imagined it. All the pain would go away, he'd be free.

Part of him wants to hear Sherlock out. He wants to know if Sherlock knew it was him, but he doesn't know if the answer would change his decision. He's not going to stay with Sherlock.

If he's honest with himself, John is afraid of what's going to happen when Sherlock arrives. Is Sherlock going to dump him for being 'so pathetic' or 'a waste of space', as scientificpirouette has told him so many times? Surely Sherlock won't want to be with someone so useless.

To be fair, thinking of all of this, John realizes Sherlock probably didn't know johawa is him, because if Sherlock did he surely would have never spoken to John.

That doesn't excuse his actions. Honestly, if he found out Sherlock was treating _anyone_ this poorly, it would go unforgiven.

John leans forward on the bench and buries his face in his hands. This can't be happening. Sherlock is so sweet, so wonderful, but now John feels like ending his pathetic life wouldn't be a mistake.

So much is going through John's head: past conversations, arguments between the two bloggers, the sudden plead a while ago from scientificpirouette to stay alive. Why did Sherlock do that?

John doesn't notice anyone standing next to him until the other man clears his throat. John looks up to see the face of a more pale and distraught Sherlock.

Sherlock motions to the bench next to John. "Should I—" He's awkward about it.

"So, you know."

Sherlock visibly swallows. "I—"

"How long have you known?"

"About half an hour."

John looks into his eyes. Sherlock looks vulnerable, scared, like he doesn't know what to do or say. John doesn't either, but he made up his mind before he sat at the bench.

"Let me ask you a question," John demands. "When…when…_you _sent me a message telling me not to 'leave', why did you do that?"

"Because I felt bad."

John stares at him. "Why?"

"Because…" Sherlock sighs. "Because I…I thought of you in that situation, I thought about how I'd feel if you were having those thoughts and it compelled me to send that message."

"What did you expect out of it?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "Nothing. I didn't expect anything, I didn't even expect a reply."

John rubs his face. "This is so confusing."

"I'm sorry John," Sherlock suddenly says. "I'm so sorry for what I've done, and the only thing to do is apologize. I wasn't thinking, I wasn't caring, I didn't know—"

John is suddenly very angry. Sherlock is making this a sob story about him. "What bothers me is that you shouldn't have even done it. You shouldn't say stuff like that to people, Sherlock! Why did you even think that was all okay, regardless of who it was?!"

Sherlock frowns deeply. John sees tears well in his eyes. "I—"

John shakes his head. "I don't care, Sherlock. I don't care. I shouldn't have even called you. To be broken up with over text without an explanation is what you deserved."

Sherlock looks at him, his eyes watering even more. "John, please—"

John snaps. "You don't know how you've hurt me! And you'll never know because you don't care what I said to you in the past, it never hurt you but it _kills me! _Try, for two seconds, to understand how I felt when you would say things like that to me. When anyone would say stuff like that to me! You saw, you were there!"

Sherlock looks slightly confused. "I don't—"

John pulls his phone out and opens Tumblr. He goes to his messages and holds the phone up to Sherlock, revealing dozens and dozens of hate messages, all of them telling him to kill himself and get it over with already. Sherlock scrolls and reads, his tears fall.

"John, I didn't know, I swear, I didn't—"

"No, you didn't, you didn't know. I feel dead inside, Sherlock. Every day I wake up and you're what gets me out of bed in the morning. I survive because of you, because of Sherlock Holmes. But knowing that Sherlock Holmes is…" John's heart stings and his own tears form. "God, I can't even say it."

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whispers. He begs.

John shakes his head. "I can't. I can't say it's okay. I'm done."

With that, John steps past Sherlock to leave, but Sherlock grabs his arm.

"John, wait—"

"No!" John yells, turning back to Sherlock. Sherlock jumps back. "No, Sherlock! This is the only thing I've _ever _done for myself and I'm not going to stay with someone who made me want to die every day! Hopefully…hopefully you won't see me around!"

John shoves Sherlock's hand off of him and storms out of the park, walking all the way home and not stopping because if he did he knows he'd never make it home.

* * *

><p>John doesn't want to be on Tumblr anymore. One more hate message and he'll go over the edge, so he logs on while opening up the webcam on his laptop, then he records a message and posts it to his blog. After waiting a few minutes while it uploads, then waiting for the first few reblogs, he logs out and lays on his bed. Miraculously, he falls asleep.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12: Deja vu

Harry leans on the sofa against Tanner, a boy in her literature class, while Robin, a very pretty girl, lays on her stomach. The three of them and two others are supposed to be converting a Shakeapeare play into a modern day rendition, but they gave up and started gossiping about everyone in their school.

Harry doesn't even feel like being out anyway. Since school let out, she's felt...odd. Even in her own head, she can't explain it, but she just wants to go home and curl up in a ball. She can only remember feeling this way once before, when their father left, but she doesn't think she's what everyone said then: "depressed".

Jake, sitting on the floor at the coffee table, scrolls on his laptop. He's got one earbud in, but everyone can hear his music playing out of the free bud.

"What are you doing, Jake?" Tanner asks.

"Tumblr," Jake says.

Kathy, the third girl, laughs. "You have Tumblr?"

"Of course, I'm not dead."

The friends laugh.

Kathy leans over to Jake and peers at his screen. After a few minutes, she stops him and points at the screen. "Hey, what's that?"

Jake furrows his eyebrows. "What the—"

Kathy picks up the other earbud and they both stare at the screen.

"What is it?" Robin asks.

Kathy and Jake both look up at Harry. She feels frozen all of a sudden, like something terrible is happening. But she doesn't want her friends to worry.

"Har, you'd better see this."

Confused and pretending not to be worried, Harry shuffles off the sofa. "What is it? A crazy cat video? You tag me in them all the time, Jake, I—"

Harry stops dead when she sees the video on the screen. She scrambles to yank the headphone from Kathy's ear and instructs Jake to replay it.

Her brother's voice rings in her ears. Her brother's face is on the screen but he looks unrecognizable. He looks like he's been crying, like he's just gone through something terrible.

_"Hello all, my name is John Watson and I am johawa. I've never shown my true identity because when I started this blog, it was a safe place, a reprieve, but it quickly became a hostile environment for me when my blog started to become popular. You all joked that scientificpirouette and I should be together, that we had sexual tension or whatever, and it turns out we did because scientificpirouette is my—" _John wipes a tear from his cheek and clears his throat_. "He was my boyfriend. He…he claims he didn't know this blog was me but…but that doesn't make me secure that he said the things he did to me even though he didn't know it was me. He hurt me, he humiliated me, and because of that I can't be on this site. I'm taking a leave indefinitely. I just can't be here anymore, especially now that my identity is out in the world. Everyone will know I'm me, everyone will know that I hate that. So followers, I'm sorry, but I hope you all are having a better time than I am right now. I don't know what I'm going to do now, I…" _John glances around the room and his face breaks into a full sob. "_I don't want to be here anymore. Anyway, I love you all, thank you._"

Harry's heart breaks. She's in shock. She follows johawa, she's seen all of his depressed and suicidal posts. She covers her mouth to hold back a cry and tears flow from her eyes.

"What happened?" Tanner asks, concerned.

"I've got to go," Harry mumbles, slowly standing from the floor. "I need to—"

"I'll drive you," Jake offers, abandoning his laptop.

Harry practically runs to the door with Jake behind her, then she cries all the way to her house.

* * *

><p>Harry rushes into the house and up to John's bedroom, where she barges in instead of knocking. John is there, on his bed, unmoving. Panic rushes over Harry.<p>

_Oh god, please no, _she thinks.

She hurries over to the bed and shakes John. He doesn't move, so her next thought is to check his pulse. Thankfully, it's still going. She sighs in relief and shakes John again.

He wakes slowly, looking up at her with red eyes. He immediately starts to cry again, so she falls onto him and hugs him tight.

* * *

><p>John welcomes his sister's hug, but he sits up so she's not laying on top of him. They hug and cry together, and John has a flashback of when their dad left. It's almost deja vu, since he felt the same way then too, but he doesn't wish to remind Harry.<p>

"I had no idea," Harry whispers after their crying has calmed. "I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know what you'd say."

Harry pulls back and holds him at arm's length. "Never keep anything like that from me again, John, I mean it. If I can't be here for you then who can?"

John slowly nods.

Harry rearranges them so they're both sitting back against the headboard. Once they're settled, she starts. "How do you feel now?"

"Terrible," John says. "I feel awful."

"Is it…_was _it Sherlock?"

John nods.

"John…" Harry sighs, rubbing his arm comfortingly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how you'd react," John tells her, his voice cracking. "I didn't want you to hate me."

Harry throws her arms around him again. "John! I'd never!" She takes a deep breath and adds, "As long as _you _don't hate _me._"

John pulls back to see her face. "What?"

"I, uh…I'm pretty gay, too."

John gapes at her. "What?!"

"Yeah, I've been seeing Clara for a while."

Thankful from the distraction from his own problems, he continues with this conversation. "Since when?!"

"Since…that first night Sherlock brought her over. When I…" Harry blushes. "When I showed her to the bathroom, we…"

"You…"

Harry raises an eyebrow.

"Kissed?"

Harry purses her lips. "And…y'know."

John's jaw drops. "And here I felt bad about keeping you two upstairs because we were…y'know."

"Where?!"

"On the sofa."

Harry's jaw drops now. "I sit there!"

"It didn't…get anywhere."

Harry covers her eyes. "God! Ew!"

John can't help but laugh, which Harry follows. It's the best conversation he's had all day and they're laughing about semen.

"Shut up, it's not funny," Harry says between laughs.

John doesn't stop, but even though he's laughing, he wants to cry. His body aches and he feels like he's going to throw up again.

Eventually they calm their laughter, and John starts to cry again. He falls over and rests his head on Harry's shoulder, and she holds him tight and soothes him, whispering that it's okay and to let it all out.

He doesn't know how long he cries, how long they're in his bed, but he eventually falls asleep.


	13. Chapter 13: Take care

_**A/N: This is the point in the story where I was even like wait what happened?! But the angst will probably only be another two chapters. If you know my stories, you know that I tend to draw things out and each chapter is day by day, but this skips pretty quickly. So again, don't worry! Not much more angst. Keep reading, enjoy. And please review! **_

_**Oh and another question, are y'all totally tired of my teen au's? I just really like teen au's and I'm making plans for another but I get the feeling they've overstayed their welcome. Anyway, happy reading. Thanks!**_

* * *

><p>Sherlock doesn't want to go to school the next day. After being dumped in the park by the love of his life, he locks himself in his bedroom and doesn't do anything but lay in bed and think about what he's done. He cries, he wants to call John and beg for him to give Sherlock another chance, but he doesn't do anything at all.<p>

When he gets to school the next morning, a lot of people are staring at him. He hasn't been on Tumblr, but his first thought is that John told his followers what he did. No doubt people from school follow John, and either way the gossip would get around.

Some people glare at him. Harry Watson rushes away from him when they pass each other in the hall, and after that Sherlock just wants to leave.

He doesn't see John all day, but John knows his schedule and is probably avoiding him. Sherlock wishes he could see John, just once, but if he saw John he'd probably break down and beg for John's forgiveness right there in the hallway.

Sherlock knows he has nobody to blame but himself. If he wasn't such a dick to John over the internet, none of this would have happened. Sherlock wishes he could tell John he loves him one last time, then he might be able to let this all go.

* * *

><p>Clara goes to Sherlock's house later that afternoon. Like usual, Sherlock sits at his desk on his laptop while Clara lounges on his bed.<p>

Sherlock is bursting to ask, so after a long silence, he does. "Did you see John today?"

Clara is slow to answer. "Y-yes…why?"

Sherlock looks at her. "Why'd you say it like that?"

"You didn't hear?"

Panic rushes through Sherlock. "Please don't tell me John did anything bad to himself."

Clara sits up quickly. "God no, honey, no he didn't. He had a panic attack after second period, everyone kept staring at him and whispering and he couldn't take it anymore."

"How do you know?" Sherlock asks, but he knows why. "You were there."

Clara nods.

"Did you help him?"

"Of course. I got him to the nurse and we calmed him enough to call his mother to go home."

"What's going to happen now?" Sherlock asks, nervous.

"According to Harry, John told his mother everything and he's being checked into a facility."

"A facility?!" Sherlock cries. Of course he's thankful that John is going to get the help he needs, but it's his fault.

"A hospital. Just for a week, then they'll see if he can return to school."

Sherlock runs a nervous hand through his hair. "This is all my fault."

"No it's not," Clara says. "Harry says their home life has been a problem for a long time, and from John's blog posts I see that. John's been suicidal for a lot longer than he's had Tumblr, Tumblr was just where he let it out to the world. It's not your fault."

That doesn't help Sherlock. He wants to see John, he wants to make sure John is okay, he wants to beg John not to end his life. Even if John is never going to be with Sherlock again, Sherlock wants him safe and happy.

"Hey," Clara says, suddenly standing in front of Sherlock. She places her hands on his shoulders. "Harry says John hasn't even mentioned you, which is good because that means he isn't blaming you, understand. She says that in time, when John gets well, she'll be the first to see if John wants to talk to you. But for now…"

Sherlock looks confused. "What?"

Clara turns Sherlock's laptop to her and clicks around, then swivels the screen back to Sherlock. It's a video on John's blog.

Sherlock watches the minute and a half long video and starts to cry. It hurts him, knowing that John is this hurt.

"I'm going to say something," Sherlock announces when the video ends.

"Where?"

"I'll make a video."

Clara nods. "If that's what you think is best."

"I do," Sherlock says, opening up the webcam on his laptop.

Clara stands out of frame while Sherlock addresses his audience.

He clears his throat and starts talking. "I'm here to extend my apology to only one person who deserves it: my boyfriend, John, who you all know as johawa. As you all know, I unknowingly was a gigantic arse to him for a very long time, but that's no excuse for what I did and what I said to him. I am truly sorry, sorrier than I've ever been, and I just want to say in front of the whole world that I love you more than anything, John. I hope that one day you can forgive me because…because I can't go on without you. I can't be anything without you. You make me whole, you make breathing worthwhile. I know what I've done doesn't deserve forgiveness, what I've done is bad enough that you have every right to never speak to me again, but…" Sherlock chokes up and wipes his eyes. "I love you." He clicks stop on the recording and immediately posts it.

Clara rubs his shoulder. Sherlock looks up at her, her eyes filled with tears too.

"You'll tell me how he is?" Sherlock asks.

Clara nods, then leans down and hugs him tight.


	14. Chapter 14: I Shipped You

John starts to feel different around day four. They said he'd start to feel like his old self, but John doesn't know what 'his old self' is like. He's felt this way as long as he can remember, long before his dad left (and that was when he was nine-years-old).

So he just feels different. His chest starts to hurt less, and it feels like his body is slowly freeing itself of bad energy. It feels good, but fear lingers that it'll all go away soon. He's cautious to talk to anyone in case he's set off.

The hospital he's in has a teen ward, and that's where he is. Kids are allowed to have their phones after they show progress, so a lot of them have their phones, and to John's non-delight, a lot of them have Tumblr.

The first person to realize who is is a girl named Mary, and she noticed him on day two. She stared at him when he entered the cafeteria for breakfast, she stared at him while he ate lunch, she stares at him when he emptied his dinner plate and left for bed. He pretended he didn't notice, but of course he did.

Two days later, on day four, when he fears losing his brightening mood, she sits next to him at lunch.

"I shipped you two, you know."

John frowns. There goes his mood and appetite. "Listen, I'd really rather not talk about my personal life."

"It was plastered on the internet. Have you checked your notifications? That video has over two thousand notes."

John looks at her. "It does?"

Mary turns her phone to him and he sees that there are exactly two thousand, five hundred, sixty-six notes. He raises his hand to click the notes tab, to see what's being said, but he refrains. He really can't handle any negativity.

"For what it's worth," she says, pulling her phone away. "The notes I've read are really positive. And…check this out." She clicks around again, then turns the phone back to him.

It's a tag search results page, and the tag that she searched for is 'welovejohawa'. John looks at Mary with wide eyes.

"Yeah, you're like a giant celeb. I've followed you all along. I thought you were really inspirational. I…" Mary furrows her eyebrows. "It's silly, but you were the first person who made me realize I'm not alone in how I feel. When you'd write about how you felt, I'd always think, 'holy shit, me too.' That meant a lot."

John processes her words. "I…thank you. That…that means a lot to me, too."

Mary smiles weakly at him. "What all happened, if you want to talk about it? I'm asking not as a crazy stalker fan or something, just someone who's sharing a meal with you in a mental hospital."

That makes John chuckle. "Well, when you put it that way. Uhm, I was with his best friend and I showed her a post from my own blog. She saw my URL and started talking about me, saying that Sherlock—"

"Sherlock…scientificpirouette?"

John nods. His stomach turns at the name, but he goes on. "Yeah, Clara started talking to me about how Sherlock hated _me, _and then that everyone on Tumblr shipped Sherlock and…_me._"

"But neither of you knew the other was who you are?"

John squints at her through the confusion. "Y-yes…I think that's right."

Mary nods. "So then what?"

John shrugs. "Then I called him, we met, and I broke up with him."

"How'd you end up here?"

"My sister saw the video. She didn't know how I've felt all this time. We talked it over with my mum, hell, my mum read my blog, and decided I needed to come here."

"You didn't fight it?"

John shakes his head. "I had a panic attack at school the day after I posted the video. I needed out."

"That's good then," Mary says. "Good that you welcomed help before something drastic happened."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

Mary bites her lip, then she raises the sleeves of her long-sleeve shirt and reveals long, white scars along her wrist. John frowns, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with emotion for a girl he just met. Without thinking, he reaches over and traces the lines with the tip of his finger.

"I've never…"

"Good," she replies.

John looks up at her and they lock eyes, but only for a second. John looks away quickly and retracts his hand.

"It's okay," Mary tells him.

John nods.

There's a silence while John continues picking at his food and she scrolls on her phone. The silence is comfortable. John doesn't feel awkward like he had with Clara, and it's still different than when he and Sherlock wouldn't talk for hours. But it's comfortable nonetheless.

John decides he's done with his food and instead starts looking around at the kids around them. Most of them are talking like they're good friends, and John wonders if they are. He wonders how long they've all been there. Judging by Mary's scars, she's been there a while already.

"Do you still love him?"

John purses his lips. "I, uh…"

"It's normal if you do," she adds. "I mean, you _just _broke up. How long were you together?"

"I don't know…like, seven or eight months."

"So, since the very start of the school year?"

John nods.

"That's a long time."

John nods again. Shockingly, he doesn't feel as terrible as he thought he would about having a conversation like this. He silently thanks his medication.

"If you want to talk about it further, I'm a pretty good listener."

"Thanks," John mutters.

Another girl hops up to their table and asks if Mary wants to go kick a ball around, so Mary eagerly nods. The girl trots away and Mary turns to John.

"Want to go outside?" she asks. "You can't be cooped up in here your entire stay."

John sighs. He doesn't really want to go outside, he wants to go back to bed, but he thinks that if he's going to try to feel better, he ought to start participating in activities again. Slowly, he nods, so Mary smiles widely, grabs his hand, and pulls him outside.

* * *

><p>"So how is it?" Harry asks over the phone later that evening.<p>

John twirls the payphone cord around his finger. "Oh…it's…alright."

"How's the food?"

"Surprisingly better than Mum's."

Harry laughs.

"Hey Har, will you do me a favor?"

"Sure, name it."

"Get on my Tumblr and change the password."

"Uh…okay. Why?"

"I don't want to be tempted to get on it when I get home."

"Alright, what's the password now?"

John tells her the password and he can hear her type away on her laptop. A second later, she says she's done.

"Great. And don't tell me what it is, no matter how much I beg."

"I won't," she agrees. "Have you made any friends?"

"Uhm…" John's about to say no, but then he remembers Mary. "Actually, yeah. This girl named Mary kept staring at me for four days and finally talked to me today."

"Really? That's cool."

"She recognized me. Y'know, from the video."

"Ah, yeah."

John silently twirls the cord again. Over the silence, he thinks about Sherlock. He thinks about Clara. He wonders if the drama has ruined his sister's relationship.

"How's Clara?" he asks.

"Oh, she's good. I actually told mum that we're seeing each other."

"Oh? What'd she say?"

"She said, and I quote, 'Oh thank god you're not still seeing that fucktard Tanner anymore'." Harry laughs. "She said _fucktard_."

John joins her laughter. "Wow, so I guess we both underestimated mum's tolerance."

"And each other's."

John's laughter dies down. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

There's another silence and John thinks about Sherlock again. He just _needs _to ask.

"How is he?"

Harry sighs. "He's…"

_Great, wonderful, moving on spectacularly without you. _

"Awful," Harry adds.

"Awful?"

"He hasn't spoken in four days. Clara says he hasn't eaten. All he does is wander around school like a zombie. He doesn't participate in class, he doesn't even look at anyone. Clara is concerned he's not going to finish the school year."

Through the speech, John starts to cry. He doesn't wish for Sherlock to hurt, he's never wanted that.

"Have I made a mistake?" he asks through chokes.

"He hurt you," Harry answers. "You breaking up with him is…it's nothing compared to what he's done to you."

"He didn't know it was me…"

"That doesn't excuse it!"

John presses himself against the wall and cries into his hand.

"John, I am so mad at him for what he did to you that I don't think _I_ can ever forgive him. I can't imagine how you feel, but he hurt you."

John just nods.

"Please don't cry, okay? I'm sorry for making you cry."

John sniffles and wipes his face, then steps away from the wall. When he turns around, he sees Mary standing behind him with a concerned look on her face.

"It's okay," John mutters, trying to calm. "I just…time's up, okay?"

"Please be okay, okay? I'm sorry." Harry sounds like she's about to cry.

"I'm okay," John tells her, taking a deep breath. "I'm okay."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you, too."

With that, John hangs up the phone. Mary takes his arm and walks him back to his room. His roommate is out, so she lays him on the little bed and situates herself next to him. The squeeze is so tight, but John wants the company, so he turns onto his side facing away from her to give her more room.

"Was that him?" she asks after his crying calms.

John shakes his head. "My sister."

"What got you that worked up?"

"I asked her how he's doing."

"And?"

"He's terrible. Which makes me feel terrible."

"Maybe he should've thought of all this before he was a complete dick to you over the internet."

"He didn't know it was me!" John snaps.

"And you're saying his actions would have been okay even if it wasn't you?"

John frowns. "No."

"Exactly. To be honest, I hated him. I wouldn't have spoken to him if he were the one stuck in here instead of you."

John stops. _How would she—_

"You wouldn't have known it was him."

"Yes I would have," she says. "I watched his video."

John turns his head enough to look at her. "What video?"

"He…he made a video after you did."

John turns over completely. "What?"

"I thought you knew that."

"I didn't. What…what did he say?"

Mary takes a deep breath and sits up. "Listen, I don't think you're fit enough to see it right now, okay? And I say that because I care about you, John Watson. It would not do you well to watch it right now."

John wants to disagree at first, he wants to demand she show him, but he realizes she's right. It wouldn't do him any good to watch Sherlock's video, no matter what Sherlock says in it. Maybe in a few months he can go back to it, but for now he can't watch it.

He finally nods. "Okay. Okay, alright. Thank you."

Mary nods. "It's bedtime. Get some sleep."

John watches her stand from the bed. Then she turns back to him, cups his cheek, leans in and kisses his cheek, very close to his mouth.

"Goodnight," she says, letting him go and leaving the room.

John doesn't feel anything about the kiss. He chalks it up for a friendly goodnight and he doesn't think anything more of it. He doesn't even want to think any more of it. He misses Sherlock.

John falls asleep a few minutes later, thanking everything that he only has three more days left in the hospital.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: So I accidentally lied, there are more than two more angsty chapters. But don't worry. That's all I'm gonna say**_.


	15. Chapter 15: Anon Hate

Sherlock decides he can't stand going to school on Monday, with the prospect of John being back. Clara says Harry insists that he won't be back until the following Tuesday, maybe Wednesday, but Sherlock still doesn't trust it. He burrows himself in his bed all day, only leaving to use the loo. He doesn't bother eating, he doesn't bother getting dressed. He just lays in bed all day.

Before the day is up, he logs on to Tumblr. He sends his daily message to John's account. There have been six so far, this is number seven.

"_I stayed home from school today because I thought you'd be back. Part of me hoped you were back, just so I could hear that you're okay and hopefully you're happier, but I didn't want to have to see you with my own eyes. I just want you to be okay, but selfishly I want you here with me. I'm sorry for what I've done. I'll spend forever making it up to you. I love you."_

He clicks send and logs out of Tumblr without checking his notifications or messages. After John's video last week, he received over a hundred hate messages in an hour. Since then, he hasn't bothered to check what the new ones say.

School has been like receiving anon-hate in real life. People glare at him, people whisper to their friends behind his back. Boys knock books out of his hands and girls help by kicking them further down the hall. Yesterday, a girl slapped a sandwich out of his hand. And it wasn't even his sandwich; he was holding it for Clara.

John is one of the most well liked people at school, he's worshipped by everyone. Being nice, handsome, and a good athlete will do that for a person. Sherlock finds it a shame that John never found his self-worth before all of this. If John could see how people were treating Sherlock now, he'd see.

* * *

><p>On Tuesday, Sherlock's mother makes him go to school. She tells him he needs to stop moping, that breakups are hard for everyone, but she doesn't know the truth. She doesn't know what Sherlock's done, and he hopes she never finds out.<p>

He walks the halls clutching his backpack tightly, hoping to avoid a repeat of last week (one of John's football teammates grabbed his bag, emptied the contents into the nearest trashcan, and then threw the bag back at him). He avoids everyone's gaze and doesn't stop walking until he reaches his locker.

"How do you feel?" he hears next to him in a welcomingly familiar tone.

Sherlock shrugs.

"Well uhm…" Clara clears her throat. "Just thought you should know that John is here."

Sherlock looks up at her and mutters his first word in a week and a half. "Where?"

"I just saw him entering the office. Dunno if that means he's returning or if he's making arrangements to get school work at home."

Sherlock knocks his head against the edge of his locker door, worried about which it is. He wants John to be so okay that he's ready for school, but he doesn't want John jumping into things too quickly.

"What has Harry said?"

Clara shrugs. "Not much. She says he'd make the decision when he got here."

Sherlock nods in understanding. "Anything else? Anything about his stay?"

Clara sighs, clearly torn about what to tell him. "Well…okay, all she's said is that he made a friend in there, her name is Mary. She knew who he was, so she started talking to him."

"A…_fan_?"

Clara shrugs again. "They got pretty close, from the sounds of it. They exchanged numbers and are making plans to see each other again when she gets out."

"To…_see_ each other?

"Babe, I don't know. I don't know what it means any more than you do, and Harry hasn't said he's planning to date her or anything."

Sherlock closes his locker and slams his head against the door. "Why does it have to be this way?"

Clara rubs his shoulder.

"I miss him so badly."

"I know."

Sherlock stands up straight and turns to face Clara on time for John to turn down his hall. His heart stops, everything stops, except John coming towards him.

John looks smaller, like he's already losing weight. He knows a side effect to the medication John must be on is weight loss and loss of appetite, so John's new size isn't surprising. He only hopes John can get it under control before he gets very ill.

Additionally, John looks tired. He looks like he's not sleeping well, and Sherlock wishes he could help. John always slept through the night when Sherlock was there.

Apart from that, John looks…okay. He doesn't look completely happy, but he doesn't look sad either. That pleases John at least a little bit, because he doesn't want John suffering. He could tell by one look at John if he was.

But then again, he didn't notice it in the past.

"I hate that I didn't notice," Sherlock mutters as John continues closer. "I hate that I didn't know he was so miserable."

"Like you would have been able to notice."

"Please, I noticed you and Harry were fucking by the scent of your bathroom hand soap. I should've noticed John's mental health state."

"People with that kind of depression are often very good at hiding it, Sherlock. Not even Harry knew, and they're…like clones."

"They're not clones. John is nothing like her."

Clara mumbles something, but Sherlock stops listening. John is close, John is here in the flesh walking past Sherlock. John glances at him, his expression unchanged. Sherlock's breathe hitches. He wants John to stop in front of him to talk, but John blinks his gaze away from Sherlock and continues on. Sherlock watches; down the hall, a girl jumps into John's arms and John hugs her tight. Sherlock has to look away.

"I'm going to be sick."

"You're going to be fine," Clara says.

Sherlock takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'm going to be fine."

* * *

><p>Everything goes fine until fourth period math. Sherlock rushes to class before John gets there and takes his usual seat, sickly hoping that John takes his usual seat next to Sherlock.<p>

It's hard for Sherlock to believe that two Wednesday's ago was the last time they were in the class together, and they were happy. Sherlock was in the room early, like today, and John got there right after him so they could share a quick kiss before the other students arrived. Their teacher saw, Mr. Tynes, and all the older man did was give them a knowing smile before turning his back to the board. This prompted the boys to share another quick kiss, to which Mr. Tynes muttered, "Okay, one kiss is enough." They all laughed, then more students began to file in.

That doesn't happen today, of course. Other students arrive before John, and John wanders in just before the bell rings.

"Welcome back," Mr. Tynes mutters to him before handing John a packet and motioning for John to take his seat.

John's usual seat is empty, but the boy takes one look at it before going to a different empty desk. The boy next to him gives John a high-five, and the class goes on like Sherlock isn't dying in the third row.

* * *

><p>Sherlock practically runs home, where he immediately gets on Tumblr and opens a new message to John's blog.<p>

"_I thought I would be okay seeing you, but I'm not, John, I'm not okay. I'm not okay longing for you. I want you so bad. I want you to be happy with me. I want to show you that I love you and I want to stop feeling this way, feeling this empty. I'm sorry, John. I love you so much."_

Sherlock exits the site, then throws himself down onto his bed, falling into an unhappy sleep until his mother wakes him for dinner.


	16. Chapter 16: Seeing Someone

John finishes the school year without any more incidents. Days get better and better, and what helps him is his new friendship with Mary. John would consider a best friend as someone who knows everything about you, someone you don't need to pretend near. Given that realization, he's never had a best friend before Mary, not even Sherlock was his best friend. Sherlock knew nothing about him. Neither did Harry, but their relationship has grown a lot since the video, too.

Mary lets John know that she's set to leave the hospital on John's last day of school, and he's very happy. He's visited the hospital a few times, and now being able to hang out with Mary without being watched every moment will be great. He's excited to introduce Mary to Harry, maybe even Clara.

It hurts John less and less to think about Sherlock. Of course Sherlock runs through his mind every day, but weeks ago it felt like it was killing him. Now, John somewhat welcomes the thoughts.

And they're simple thoughts. They're wondering what experiments Sherlock's doing, they're wondering if he's been able to hang around with that detective lately. John thinks maybe in time he can reach out to Sherlock again, but anything more than friendly interactions might be out of the question.

When school lets out, John walks around and waits for Mary to call. She said she'd let him know when she arrived home, and that her parents really wanted him to go to her house for dinner.

John thinks about Mary. He wonders what her intentions are. Being a loser who nobody wanted to date for seventeen years has made John completely confused about the situation. Does she like him? Does she want to date him? She knows he was going out with a boy? Does that matter? Does _he_ like _her_?

John's liked girls before, and Mary is beautiful and nice and they have a lot in common. Dating Mary wouldn't be so bad, but what he does know is that he doesn't want to jump into it too quickly.

His daily thought of Sherlock pops up. He doesn't want to hurt Sherlock. And really, he doesn't know if he's over Sherlock yet.

* * *

><p>Mary finally calls about an hour after John's out of school, so he heads over to her house. He knows the neighborhood so he finds it quickly, and he's surprised. Mary always explains that she's had family problems and things like that, and judging by the house, John wonders what a family who lives in this house has to fight about.<p>

But he shakes the thoughts from his head. It does nobody any good to judge a book by its cover, even if its cover is beautiful and expensive looking.

John rings the doorbell and a woman answers a second later.

"John!" the woman enthusiastically cries. "John, you must be John, how wonderful!"

John wants to flee, already feeling overwhelmed, but he's always been taught to try new things. Plus, he's already here.

"Hi, yes, hello Mrs. Morstan."

"Please, call me Jen. Come in, come in!"

John nervously enters the house. He wishes Mary was in view, but she's nowhere to be seen.

"She's upstairs, getting reacquainted with her bedroom. Let me just—" Jen calls upstairs, "Marianne!"

John chuckles. Jen shoots him a look, so he stops immediately.

Seconds later, Mary hops down the stairs. "John, there you are. Come with me!"

John follows Mary, and once they're out of earshot of Jen, he starts to laugh again. "Marianne?"

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>When John gets home later that evening, Harry and Clara are lounging on the sofa watching a movie.<p>

"Hey, how was your date?" Harry asks.

"Date?" Clara repeats.

"It wasn't a date," John snaps. _God, I hope she doesn't tell Sherlock I had a date. _

"How's your friend?"

"_Mary,_" John corrects, "Is fine. Her family is…weird."

"Weird?"

"Y'know, like…perky. Really happy. Overly enthusiastic."

"That's only because our family has always felt like morgue visitors."

Clara laughs. "Morgue visitors. That's a new one."

"Oh shush," Harry says before kissing Clara lightly.

"Yuck," John mutters, wandering towards the kitchen.

He gets a glass of water to take upstairs to take his medication, but when he gets back into the sitting room, Clara and Harry are arguing between each other.

"Tell him," Clara demands.

"No, I won't! He doesn't need to know, it doesn't concern him."

"Then I will."

John stops. "Tell _him_ what?"

Harry's gaze snaps to him. "Uh, nothing."

"Come on, Har," Clara begs.

Harry sighs. "I…okay. Listen, John, uh…Sherlock's seeing someone."

John sags. He has a feeling he'd never thought he'd get, and that's a mixture between heartbreak and disappointment. He sits on the arm on the loveseat Harry and Clara aren't occupying.

"I'm sorry," Harry says. "Clara thought you should know."

"I just didn't want you to find out elsewhere."

John rubs his face. "Who?"

"Uhm…it's Wilkes."

John feels like he was hit in the chest with an arrow. "That guy? That guys a prick!"

"Oh trust me, I know," Clara agrees. "He's doing something stupid because he can't…"

John looks at her. "Can't what?"

"Get over you," Harry adds. "Duh."

John doesn't know if that makes him feel better or worse. He misses Sherlock, but knowing that Sherlock has gotten over him enough to start dating someone else, well that hurts.

"You okay?" Harry asks.

"Yeah," John lies. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just going to…I'll give you two privacy."

John heads for the stairs to lock himself way in his bedroom.

Harry calls to him before he goes up. "Let me know if you need anything."

John gives her a faint smile, then trots up the stairs.

* * *

><p>John wishes he still had his Tumblr information. He wants so badly to talk about what he's feeling freely without judgment, but he quickly remembers that Tumblr wasn't even that place for him. However, if he opened up a new account, nobody would know it was him. He could start all over, he could be free of hate. He could probably be free of any readers, it could potentially stay private.<p>

John's about to start a new email address just so he can start a new blog when his phone rings.

The Caller ID says 'Marianne', which is what he changed Mary's ID to after finding out her real name.

His chest starts to feel funny. He feels happy, of course. There's someone he can talk to without judgment, there is someone who will listen to him no matter what. And he enjoys being with her.

As he answers, he thinks that maybe dating Mary wouldn't be so bad**.**


	17. Chapter 17: Wear The Tie

_**A/N: I really hope you enjoy this chapter and the next few. Please review!**_

* * *

><p>"For fuck's sake, it's been a <em>month, <em>can you just dump him already?!"

Sherlock glares at his phone that's still ringing in his hand. When it stops, there will be a voicemail. There will be a text after that.

"Please, for god's sake. I know you hate him as much as I do and you're not proving it to anyone to stay with him!"

The ringing stops and Sherlock finally lets out a breath he didn't notice he was holding. He tosses the device onto his desk to avoid listening to the message.

"He _sucks, _Sherlock, and not in a good way."

Sherlock frowns. As if he'd ever think of 'the good way'. Nobody but John is what he vowed months ago, and he plans to stick to it.

"He'll dump you anyway soon," Clara adds. "When he realizes you're not going to put out."

That makes Sherlock perk up. _He _won't have to dump Sebastian if Sebastian dumps him first.

"I don't know what you're so afraid of. Just say, 'Wilkes, you're a fucking dick and I don't want to see you anymore'. I swear, I don't even know what you saw in him anyway! He's absolutely nothing like…well, you know. Wilkes is horrible, he's rude and inconsiderate and arrogant. What do you see in him?!"

_Exactly that, _Sherlock thinks. Sebastian is nothing like John, and that's what Sherlock wanted. He thought maybe if he could actually form feelings for Sebastian, he'd get over sweet John, but it's been a month, as Clara has reminded him, and he feels nothing but more hatred for Sebastian.

"Please."

Sherlock looks at her and speaks for the first time today. "I just want to stop thinking about him."

"I know."

"How is he?"

"He's good," Clara answers.

"How is his…_friend?"_

Clara chuckles. "Well, Harry says they're not official yet. So there's that."

"Yet," Sherlock repeats. "Does he like her?"

"He looks like he does, honestly."

"Does she like him?"

Clara shrugs. "Hard to tell. She looks in awe of him, she _beams _when she sees him, but…"

"But?"

"I don't know, I just…I don't feel sparks."

"Sparks?" Sherlock asks, genuinely confused.

"Well, the first time I saw you two together, there was obvious chemistry. You guys just clicked. The two of them together, it just doesn't seem like there's much chemistry."

"They don't have anything in common?"

"No, they have plenty in common. He says conversation between the two of them flows wonderfully."

Sherlock furrows his eyebrows. "I don't see the problem then."

"Do you _want _him to date her?"

"I want…" Sherlock frowns. "I don't know, I guess I want him to be happy. I want to know what she's doing that isn't enough for him."

Clara sighs. "I can tell you my theory."

Sherlock looks at her, but by the way Clara is staring at him, he understands. "Ahh…so he _is _gay…"

"You didn't know that?"

"Well, I mean…I thought he was bisexual. I don't know, he never said anything."

Clara just sighs again.

"So why is he even trying to _maybe_ go out with her?" Sherlock wonders out loud, but it clicks. "Ahh, the same reason I'm going out with Sebastian."

"He's just trying to get over you?"

"By forcing himself to try to date a girl."

"Girls aren't so bad, I don't know why you guys don't like us."

"Says you," Sherlock mutters. "I need to see him."

"You _don't_. Let him come to you."

"And if he never does?"

"Then he never does, Sherlock." Clara sounds annoyed. "Good god, why can't you just get over it?"

"Because I love him."

Clara stops and frowns. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"I know," Sherlock says. "I just want him back, okay? Eventually, I might get over it, but for now I'm not over it."

Clara nods in understanding. "Just, please. Please. I beg of you. Break up with Wilkes."

"Alright," Sherlock agrees.

* * *

><p>Sherlock dumps Sebastian the next day. Sebastian is angry, which Sherlock expected. He yells a few words at Sherlock, including 'I only wanted you for one thing anyway,' and 'You're not even good enough for me'. Which is fine. His words don't bother Sherlock whatsoever.<p>

He types out his usual message to John's blog that night.

"_I dumped Sebastian. You know I didn't like him anyway. He's nothing compared to you. I miss you still, after all this time. I want to hear your voice, hear your laugh, see your smile, but I can't. I just love you so much, John. Please come back to me."_

That's all he can think of to write, so after he sends it, he goes right to bed.

* * *

><p>John decides to take Mary to dinner for their two month friend-iversary (Mary's word, not his). With money he's earned from chores and doing other things around the neighborhood, he can afford to take her to a nice dinner that she deserves.<p>

John is excited for their dinner. He puts on a nice button-up shirt and his nicest pair of blue jeans, then picks up an old tie of his to see what it looks like on him.

"Ick, don't wear the tie."

John swivels around in shock. "Geez, you scared me."

Harry laughs. Her and Clara enter his bedroom and flop down on his bed.

"So no tie?" John asks the girls.

"That depends," Harry says, "What kind of message are you trying to convey here?"

John's arms drop. "What do you mean?"

"Well, what is this dinner saying? _'I'm glad we're friends' _or_ 'let's do more'_?"

If John was being honest with himself, he kind of wants to skip into the 'let's do more' category. But he doesn't want to tell his sister that.

"If you want to just be friends, don't wear the tie. If you want to be more than friends, wear the tie."

John wants her to leave before he puts the tie on. "What do you think, Clara?"

Clara's absentmindedly looking around the room. "Oh, you know…"

John frowns. "What?"

Clara's gaze finally settle on him. "Let's chat, John."

"Uh…okay."

"What are you really thinking you want to happen with this girl? Do you want to date her?"

John shrugs. "Yeah."

"When she's near, do you want to kiss her?"

John shrugs again. "I…I guess."

"Do you want to fuck her?"

John frowns deeper and shrugs again. "I…yeah…I…don't know…"

Clara glances at Harry, as if unsure of what to say to her girlfriend's brother, but she continues anyway. "John, I think you're pushing yourself to be straight for her."

John's jaw drops open. "I am not."

"You know," Harry joins. "I think you are, John."

"I am not!" John tries again.

Clara continues. "She's the only person you've talked to besides us since all of this started. I feel like if you had met a boy in there, you'd be dating him."

John pinches the bridge of his nose. "Why is it okay for him to move on, but I can't?"

Clara snorts. "He hasn't moved on! He's bloody miserable without you!"

"But…Wilkes—"

"He dated Wilkes for the same reason you're looking to date Mary. He wanted to push himself to like someone else. At least Wilkes has a dick, so he was a tiny bit more appealing than Mary is to you."

"Wait," John stops. "Dat_ed_?"

"Yeah," Clara says. "Sherlock dumped him."

John's heart beats differently than it has been lately. He's filled with optimism, like he has a chance with Sherlock again.

Just as quickly, he remembers the pain Sherlock's caused him. He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter."

"It does matter!" Harry cries.

John looks at her. "I thought you were mad at him. I thought you hated him."

Harry and Clara exchange an unsure look.

"Show him," Clara whispers.

Harry bites her lip. "Alright, John, I have to show you something."

John watches Harry get off his bed and march over to his desk, where she powers on his laptop and clicks around until she's on Tumblr.

"What are you…"

An uneasy feeling enters his body when he sees his dash. His user picture, his URL, his post count, his follower count (which has dwindled a bit). His five new messages.

"I…I expected more messages, honestly."

"That's because I've been checking them every few days."

John doesn't know if he should feel annoyed or somewhat thankful. "Why?" he asks.

"Because when you decide you want to use it again, if you ever do, I wanted to filter out all the negative messages."

"That's…" _Thankful_, he thinks. "Thank you."

"That's not what I wanted to show you," she says, clearly nervous. She clicks the messages icon and turns to him.

He leans over her to see better, and what he sees is messages and messages from the old familiar URL, scientificpirouette.

"What is this?" he wonders out loud.

Harry slides from the chair and John takes her spot.

"They come daily, sometimes bi-daily, but there is at least one a day."

John's not even listening to her anymore, he's reading. They're all messages about how much Sherlock loves John, how much he misses John, and how much he wants John's forgiveness.

As he's reading, a new message pops up. John's heart skips a beat, he wonders if Sherlock happened to know John was reading them right now. He clicks the icon and the page refreshes, then he reads:

"_If you ever read these, I'm probably coming across as obsessive by now. I'm trying not to be, I promise, I wish I didn't feel this way but if this is the only connection I have to you, I'll take it. I miss you so much, every day is getting harder. I thought each day was supposed to be easier, but it's not. The more we're apart, the more I miss you. Wilkes meant nothing, and I hope you know that. I never did anything more with him than a few little kisses, and I didn't want to do more. Only you, John. I love you."_

John sits back and takes a deep breath. "I need to see the video," he mutters.

"Just click to Sherlock's blog, that's the last thing he posted."

John does as he's told, then takes another breath and presses play.

Tears fill his eyes after the first play. During the second, he rests his chin in his hand. After the third, the tears are flowing freely and he feels his sister's hand on his shoulder.

"I've forgiven him, John," Harry says before he can play the video a fourth time. "And I honestly hope you can, too."

John turns around in his chair and leans forward on his knees. "I have a lot to think about."

"Oh, what is there to think about?!" Clara cries. "Do you love him?"

John sits up in shock. "Well…yes. Of course."

"Then go to him!"

"You think I should?"

Harry buries her face in her hand. "Oh for fuck's sake, John!"

John throws himself out of his chair. "Okay. Okay, I will. I need to change."

"No," Clara stops him. "Go like that, he'll think it's sexy."

John cracks a smile and blushes. "Okay, then. I'll be back."

John gets almost out of the room before Harry calls him back.

"Hey bro, wear the tie."

John smiles widely and takes it from her.


	18. Chapter 18: Get Dressed

John gets to the restaurant where he and Mary agreed to meet. He dreads hurting her feelings, he thinks she's really developed feelings for him over the past two months, but he loves Sherlock. Sure, he loves Mary too, but not the same way he loves Sherlock.

She's already sitting at the table he had reserved. She looks happy, not even the least bit annoyed, and she stands when he approaches. He politely kisses her cheek, then they both take their seats.

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I lost track of time."

"Oh? What were you doing?" she curiously asks.

"I was with my sister," he lies.

The waiter arrives and they order drinks, then when he brings the drinks, they order food. They don't talk about anything much, all John can think about is breaking it to her that he doesn't want to go out with her.

"Look, Mary," he says before their food arrives. "I have to come clean. I've just been with Sherlock."

"Oh."

"I, uh…when I was in the hospital, I had my sister change the password on my Tumblr account so I couldn't get into it. She just logged me on to find messages that Sherlock's been sending every day since we broke up."

"Oh?" Mary asks, this time more interested.

"And I watched his video. A few times, actually."

"Oh…"

"So, what I'm trying to say is, Mary, I don't want to go out with you."

Mary begins to laugh. Her laughter grows until everyone around them starts to stare and John reaches over to grab her hand to calm her.

"John, oh John," she sighs. "I was going to tell you I don't want to date you!"

John grows confused. "You were? I thought you liked me!"

"John, you're gay!"

"But—"

"And more than that, you're madly in love with Sherlock!"

"Well—" he starts, but he can't argue with that. He is, after all.

"John, you've become my best friend and I love you, just…not like _that_."

"Oh," he says next, realizing that he was going to say the same thing to Mary.

"I'm so sorry if I've been leading you on or something. I just enjoy your company."

John shakes his head. "No, no I've been so foolish. You haven't been leading me on at all, I'm just an idiot."

Mary laughs again, then reaches over and squeezes his hand. "Just answer one question for me, John."

"Anything," he says.

"What the hell are you doing here with me? Go back to him!"

John smiles widely. "God, I love you. Thank you." He climbs out of his chair and goes around the table to her.

Mary welcomes a kiss on her cheek.

"What are you going to do?" John asks. "Should I leave money to cover the check, or—"

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm going to invite that waiter over. Take out that foxy boyfriend of yours."

John blushes. _Boyfriend, _he thinks. He follows her gaze to the waiter she's staring at and nods approvingly. "Good luck," he says, stepping away from the table.

"You too," she says with a hint of teasing in her voice. "You need a condom or anything?"

"Oh, shut up!" he yells back to her.

* * *

><p>John sends Sherlock a text while he's in the cab.<p>

To Sherlock Holmes: Get dressed. Something nice.

He wonders if it's too soon to jokingly tell Sherlock that it'd be better if he didn't wear anything at all, but he doesn't want to be inappropriate too soon. Instead, he leaves it.

John asks the cabbie to make a stop on their way to Sherlock's house, so when they pull up to the flower shop, John hops out and buys a bouquet. He has no idea if Sherlock will like the flowers, but he wants to be nice and romantic.

When he gets back to the car, he realizes he doesn't have anywhere to take Sherlock for a romantic meal. He'd be unable to get a reservation anywhere, and the one he set up weeks ago is being used for Mary and the waiter she hopes to pick up.

John tries to think of another plan, but he gets to Sherlock's house before he can come up with anything.

"Any ideas of where to take my boyfriend on a romantic dinner?"

The cabbie sighs as if he didn't sign up for this. "Nope, sorry kid."

John pays the man, then climbs out of the car.

He takes a deep breath before walking up to the door, where he rings the doorbell and waits only two seconds before Sherlock throws the door open.

Sherlock's dressed gorgeously, like always. He's changed from a t-shirt and jeans to one of his black suits with a crisp blue shirt underneath.

"Wow…" John sighs, licking his lips. "I brought these for you."

Sherlock happily takes the flowers and pulls John inside.

"They're lovely," Sherlock says, setting them on the entry table.

"Should you get some water for them?" John hesitantly asks.

Instead of replying, Sherlock grabs John's face and pulls him into a long, slow kiss.

And goodness, it's perfect. It's everything John's missed over the past few months and everything he's longed for. He never wants it to end. John holds Sherlock's hips and tries to pull him closer, but Sherlock pulls away.

"Why did you want me to get dressed?"

"Well," John says, swallowing and licking his lips. "I _wanted_ to go to dinner, but—"

Sherlock's eyebrows lift. "But?"

John glances down Sherlock's dapperly clothed body. "But now I kind of just want to take it all off you."

Sherlock smiles widely, then pulls John in to another hot kiss.


	19. Chapter 19: Internet Dimension

_**A/N: Warning for mentions of sex. Maybe. Maybe not. : )**_

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, they're a sweaty, messy heap on Sherlock's bed. John's laying on his back while Sherlock is curled up against him, his head on John's chest.<p>

"This feels so good," John mumbles, getting a mouth full of black hair.

"What you just did felt good," Sherlock replies, a grin behind his voice.

John chuckles. "Really?"

"Didn't it sound like it felt good?"

"Mmm," John sighs, remembering the gorgeous sounds Sherlock was making while he licked and sucked Sherlock to completion. "You're so sexy," he adds.

"You are," Sherlock argues, lifting his head to look at John. "I love you."

John meets Sherlock for a kiss. "I love you, too."

Sherlock settles against John again and they fall silent. John thinks Sherlock's fallen asleep, but a few minutes later, Sherlock speaks.

"Do you have any idea how many messages I get about you a day?"

John laughs. "Really?"

"Yes. Every day, everyone asks if you're okay, if you're still…" Sherlock clears his throat and John frowns. "Well, you know."

"I know," John says, hugging Sherlock tighter. He doesn't want Sherlock to say 'alive'. "What have you said?"

"Nothing," Sherlock says. "Nobody's had any idea what's going on for the past two months."

John gets an idea and grows a grin. "I think we should make a statement."

Sherlock lifts his head again. "What kind of statement?"

John smiles wider. "Put a shirt on."

They climb out of bed and Sherlock does as told, putting on _just_ a shirt. John licks his lips when he sees Sherlock's bare arse peeking out beneath the shirt.

John pulls on his own underpants and dress shirt, then he sits at Sherlock's laptop and opens the webcam. "Stay over there for a second," John tells Sherlock, then he presses play on the recorder.

"Hello followers," he says. "Long time no talk. Last time I updated, things were…terrible, to say the least. But I got help and now I'm much happier. I'm sure over time I'll share the whole story, which isn't that long, but it'll be on my blog to hopefully encourage everyone to get help." John takes a deep breath, then he glances off camera where Sherlock is waiting. "Have you got anything to add?"

Sherlock walks over to the desk, but the view it's at is just of his hip. John is thankful he grabbed his trousers before doing this.

Sherlock sits next to John on the spare chair that's set up at his desk. John beams at him, completely happy that he's sitting here with Sherlock.

"I think you said it all," Sherlock says, smiling. "I just want to say how happy I am to be sitting here with you, _Johawa._"

John smiles wider. "And I with you, _Scientificpirouette,_" he says, then he leans over and kisses Sherlock once on the lips.

Sherlock glances at the camera. "Please John, not in front of the followers."

John grins wickedly, then holds his hand up in front of the camera so only their chests are visible. Then, John gives Sherlock a long kiss that can probably be heard on the video.

Short seconds later, Sherlock blindly reaches over and stops the video, but they continue kissing. Sherlock's fingers work on the buttons of John's shirt and he kisses down to John's neck.

"Wait, wait," John whispers. "I want to upload this."

"It can wait."

"No, I want to now," John says, turning to the laptop.

Sherlock continues to suck at John's neck while John tries to remember the password that Harry used.

"It's 'clara501'."

"How do you know that?" John asks.

"The day they first got together."

"The day _we_ first got together."

Sherlock grins against John's skin.

The password works, of course, and John quickly uploads the video. Out of curiosity, he takes a look at the activity his blog has been having over the past two months. The notes on his video have died down a lot, but he's tagged in a lot of things. A lot of '_I hope johawa is okay'_ types of posts. It makes him so happy.

He keeps reading and doesn't notice what Sherlock's doing until his cock is out of his pants.

"Oh ggg—" he sighs, glancing down at Sherlock's hand on his dick. His head tips back and Sherlock sucks at his earlobe.

"Bed?" Sherlock asks.

"I'm enjoying it right here," John says.

Sherlock laughs. "Maybe we should upload a video of this."

"No way," John laughs.

"Record it for me, then. I'd love to see the look on your face as you come the next time I'm…lonely in bed."

"You're not going to be without me in bed for a long time," John replies, then he stands and takes Sherlock to bed.

* * *

><p>Later, after finishing the second time and eating a quick and easy dinner, they return to Sherlock's bed. Sherlock can tell John is itching at the seams to find out what everyone's saying about the video.<p>

"Oh, just check it," Sherlock commands.

John smiles widely and gets Sherlock's laptop, then he sits back down on the bed next to Sherlock. They snuggle against the headboard and John refreshes the page he'd previously abandoned.

The video already has seven hundred notes, and counting. John and Sherlock read the replies left on reblogs, and they laugh.

"Look at that one," Sherlock says, pointing at the screen. "'_They look like they've just fucked!'_ Well, good to know some of them are brighter than they seem."

John laughs. "Or here, _'Sherlock looks fetching with sex hair.'" _John looks over at Sherlock. "They're right."

Sherlock smiles and kisses John.

They part to read more replies.

"'_You both are so hot!' _Accurate."

"'_Release a sex tape!' _No way!"

"'_I ship it so hard! Hashtag-johaouette!'_" They both just laugh at that.

"I ship it too," John says.

Sherlock remembers when John, on his blog, started talking about a mystery guy he liked, before the whole shipping stuff started.

"Hey, you know what?" Sherlock starts. "Remember months ago, the first day we spoke?"

"In the lab?" John asks. "Yeah."

Sherlock chuckles. "This is like a weird time dimension thing, kind of. Except…internet dimension."

John eyes him. "Oh…kay?"

"_You_ wrote a post about some mystery guy you liked. You said he was perfect, gorgeous, talented, a genius, and Clara thought I was jealous."

"Clara thought you were jealous?! Why did she think that?"

"Because she was convinced I had a crush on, well…_you. _On johawa."

John laughs.

"She thought that was why…y'know…"

"Why you were so mean to me?"

Sherlock bites his lip. "I suppose so. Anyway, I read your post about…wait, was that about me?"

John laughs. "Duh. You know I've liked you for a long time!"

Sherlock shakes his head, still in disbelief of that. "I know, I liked you, too."

"The time we could've saved."

Sherlock laughs. "But you see, I read that post and…I don't know, maybe I was jealous. I thought less of myself because I wasn't perfect, I wasn't as talented as who _you_ described."

"But I was talking about you!"

"Well I didn't know that! Anyway, Clara saw that it was upsetting me, for whatever reason, and pushed me to go talk to you in the lab."

John just smiles. "So you talked to me because you were jealous of something I said about you."

Sherlock nods.

"And I talked to you in the lab, I agreed to hang out with you, because I wanted to prove to _you_ that _you_ would like me."

"That's why you hung out with me?"

"Well, apart from being madly smitten with you before we even spoke, yes. I wanted to start dating you so you'd shut the fuck up about me not being good enough."

Sherlock buries his face in John's shoulder. "God, John, I'm so sorry."

"I don't think you can be sorry anymore," John says, running his hand through Sherlock's hair. "Without you being such a prick, I probably wouldn't be naked in your bed right now."

Sherlock looks at him again. "I'm still sorry."

"I know, babe."

Sherlock smiles at the name.

"So," John goes on, "The people we have to thank for getting us together is…each other?"

Sherlock nods. "Guess so."

"Sounds like a Doctor Who episode."

Sherlock chuckles.

"Which, by the way!" John cries. "Why didn't you tell me you liked Doctor Who?! We can watch it all the time now!"

"That is why," Sherlock answers with a straight face.

John laughs. "Okay, okay I get it."

Sherlock smiles, then presses his forehead against John's. "I'm so happy right now."

"Me too, Sherlock."

John closes the gap and gives Sherlock a long, loving kiss.


End file.
